Sovereign of Blood and Steel
by NoPudding
Summary: Yggdrasil's final moments were attended only by a few loyalists. The once bustling servers now lay barren. Caleb, the son of an influential businessman, and his friends found themselves as some of the few remaining players left. Reminiscing about the joys of their past, they prepare for the end doing what they love. Resting his head against his throne, Caleb welcomed the end…
1. Prologue: Harbinger and Herald

Note: This fan-fiction will contain elements of the Manga, Anime, and Light Novels. It is recommended that the readers have already read the prologue for Overlord, which contains information about Satoru's real world. Having done so will likely make certain sections of this story easier to understand. This is also the first time I've written a fictional story since 10th grade. (Please be gentle ;_;)

I would also like to thank Erdrick117 for letting me use and modify the following guide for separating dialogue, thoughts, and etc.

*Sounds*

"Dialogue"

'Thoughts'

 **"Special Voice"**

 **Special Item Name**

 **[Spoken Spell/Skill/Ability]**

 **{Silent Spell/Skill/Ability}**

* * *

 **Prologue: Harbinger and Herald**

The glowing orb lay at the center of an unlit room, casting a soft light on the granite table where it sat upon. Its dull radiance was barely bright enough to illuminate the square of folded silk that separated it from the cold, polished stone.

A creak echoed as the door suddenly opened, flooding the room with glaring light. As shadows retreated behind furniture, the messy nature of the chamber was revealed. Piles of thick tomes relating to many different subject areas occupied most of the floor space while loose papers sprawled between the stacks. Sheets near the door fluttered for a brief moment as stale air interchanged with fresh air from the hallway.

A young woman entered the room, dressed in ceremonial clothing in preparation for the ritual. While considered ceremonial by the state, her garments consisted of little more than silk lingerie, mismatched stockings, and an over-sized black hat that looked like it had once belonged to a wise old wizard. Nonetheless, these items were considered to be holy and very valuable; more so than anyone who had ever or will ever receive the honor of wearing them.

The woman walked into the room and shut the door behind her, letting darkness once again creep throughout the chamber.

*Snap*

With the click of her fingers and the silent utterance of a single word, magic candles placed throughout the room ignite. Fueled by internal mana crystals, the candles' blue flames once again drive away the ephemeral blackness. The girl relaxed as she briefly basked in the gentle glow, warming her pale skin and the two thick braids of blue hair that extended below her knees.

"Mmh, the room is even messier than I remembered," She said in a tired voice. "Haaah," She sighed. "They should really try to clean this up."

Carefully making her way to the table at the center, the lady stepped over the each of the piles, making sure to not disturb the papers on the floor. When she had finally reached the table, she pulled back the lone chair and sat down, inclining towards the luminescent orb. This orb, considered to be one of the most valuable artifacts in the world, was once thought to be used by the gods themselves to divine information known only as Daeva-Lupar Opdeits. However, when wielded by a mere mortal such as herself, it would only to show the future. The orb was fickle. It required powerful users and granted visions both important and mundane, sometimes showing an imminent catastrophe while, at other times, revealing the losing hand of some unknown peasant betting his wife's dowry away in an unremarkable tavern.

The lady leaned her face towards the orb, mesmerized by the swirling clouds within it. The feeble light from the orb revealed the details of her beautiful face, blemished only by the dark bags under her sleep deprived eyes.

She drew her hands around the orb and prepared the sacred ritual with a prayer to the gods, asking them to grant strength to the unworthy wielder of this divine item.

The orb glowed slightly brighter.

"Waaah..."

Delighted by the encouraging sign, she began the ritual that could only be attempted once per month by only the greatest of clairvoyants.

As she pours her magical energy into the orb, her surroundings start to recede into a black abyss, as if a sphere of absolute darkness slowly shrank towards her. Only a moment had passed and the woman was left only with the glowing orb. Another brief moment later, the orb, too, faded into nothingness, leaving her alone in the lightless void.

'It has begun.'

The blackness lasted for but a minute, then it too faded, revealing a dream-like environment around the woman. The sky was dark, but it was speckled with glimmering sparks.

It was a city bright with yellow and orange lights, but the details of the buildings were limited to vague silhouettes. People, who were nothing more than unfocused shadows to her, hurried towards a general direction, likely gathering for some midnight gala. The vision was uncharacteristically blurry.

"What?" A confused remark escaped the lady's lips as she slowly walked around the dynamic scene.

To her knowledge, cloudy visions only occurred when the user of the artifact was either unworthy, weak from fatigue or the event displayed is of utmost significance. The vibrant night culture of a city, while exciting, was nowhere near any level of importance to trigger what is meant for a world ending disaster.

"Perhaps I'm just too tired. My sleeping habits haven't been getting any better. Mmmh... I guess this failure is a sign for me to fix my sched-eek!"

The lady squeaked as a wave of icy dread suddenly flooded her senses. It was as if the artifact itself heard her inaccurate judgement and decided to correct her.

Her breath became short and she started to shake uncontrollably. The acrid smell of smoke and blood stung the woman's nose while a cacophony of muffled screams filled the air around her.

The lights were not lights.

The city was burning.

People were fleeing.

At the edge of her vision, she saw several large shadowy figures yelling and dragging a smaller one, seemingly against its will.

An abduction.

Panicked now, she raced to piece together the scene. The pieces to the puzzle were small and incomplete, but that is what a clairvoyant must work with to divine important information. As her mind scrambled to lock together some form of understanding, a single idea latched onto her thoughts.

"N-no. How could this happen?" She exclaimed as fear overcame her senses. In her mind's eye, it was her capital city that burned and someone of great significance to the country, captured. If the Holy City itself fell, the rest of humanity will fall along with it.

More screams. Some shadows interweave and press against each other as they attempt to flee while others run towards the larger entities, dropping to the ground in seconds never to move again.

Before she could formulate any more thoughts into potential explanations, the scene suddenly grew quiet. The fires faded along with the shadows and the silhouettes. The feeling of trepidation went away and was replaced with a thin veil of respite.

Once again, she is surrounded by pitch blackness.

"Hmg!"

As quickly as the feeling went away, it came back just as fast and twice as strong. The woman dropped to her knees and covered her mouth as nausea, along with adrenaline, coursed through her body. She lowered her head in anticipation of the vomit that never came.

*Clank*

The sound of heavy metal hitting the stone floor echoed through the empty void.

*Clank*

It was the sound of footsteps, very heavy footsteps.

*Clank*

The crushing pressure she felt increased with every step. It was coming closer.

*Clank*

Heavy sabatons and greaves of dark metal pierced the shroud, entering the woman's lowered field of view.

*Clank*

The entire figure emerged, blurred but with discernible details. The painful pressure had become unbearable. With great effort, she lifted her head to behold a massive being, larger than any man, clad in terrifyingly brutal armor. It wore heavy black pauldrons, decorated with skulls. A great helmet crowned with a wreath of metal thorns covered its face.

It was staring straight at her.

She slowly crawled backwards.

Its piercing red eyes followed.

'Impossible. This cant happen. It can't hurt me. This isn't real. An illusion can't see me! It can't!' Panicked thoughts cycled through her mind as the entity's burning eyes stared into her soul, judging, evaluating, and filled with an unmistakable hatred.

*Clank*

It took another step forward.

"N-no! S-stop! PLEASE!"

In her desperate fear, in her childish hope, she closed her eyes and prayed, begged, and pleaded for it to go away.

The crushing pressure disappeared. She opened her eyes. The entity, the demon, was gone along with the aura of dread that surrounded it.

However, the scene changed once again. She was sitting in the middle of a large grassy field under a cloudy sky. A cool zephyr blew past her as she stood up to observe her surroundings. Her breath slowly calmed as she noticed two shadowy armies on either side of her, ready for engagement. Both armies were of significant size but the one to her left was undoubtedly larger.

'This looks very much like the typical yearly _war_ between the Kingdom and the Empire but...'

Something was wrong. The grassy plains under her feet were green and filled with life. It was untouched by battle unlike the Katze Plains. Since it would be a ridiculously disadvantageous choice for both belligerents to change their traditional battleground...

'These armies belonged to neither the Kingdom nor the Empire. But then who-'

The sound of a war horn interrupted her thoughts and prompted the larger army to move. The army split up into several groups. The ones on the sides outpaced the main central body of the army, moving to flank and surround the smaller army.

'Cavalry, no doubt.'

The central body paced a slower advance but headed directly for the smaller army. The smaller army held its ground.

The girl shivered. 'Was it always this cold?' She thought. 'No, it suddenly became much colder but that isn't imp-'

*Crack*

A loud crack reverberated above her head. As she looked straight up, she found the source of this sound.

The sky itself had fractured. The smaller army started its advance. As the distance between the opposing forces became shrank, the tear in the sky grew only larger and larger. When the distance between the armies had been almost entirely closed, the sky shattered like glass. Shards of cloud fell and evaporated into mist before they could hit the ground and the chasm which had once been the sky glowed a bright orange hue.

The larger army's advance faltered. The smaller one's did not.

The sickening feeling returned, though it was not nearly as overpowering as before. As if on cue, c _reatures_ emerged from the tear. These things were not angels however. No. They definitely were not angels. No angel could ever exude such a vile presence, one that tainted the very air around it. The creatures, covered in bony carapace, leaped from the chasm, crossing into the land of the living.

The advance of the larger army halted. The smaller one quickened its pace. The demons were enveloped in a deep crimson flame as they descended towards the large army, more akin to projectiles from siege weapons than hippogriph knights.

As the opposing forces met, the demons smashed into the larger army, creating chaos as metal, flesh, and bone were crushed alike. These hellish living weapons, after being used as projectiles, stood up in the craters they created and began annihilating the army from within. Immune to the polished shield walls and perfect spear formations, they began slashing and tearing apart the soldiers with their claws. Panicked screams once again filled the air as the larger army crumbled.

The Demon Gods had been destroyed long ago, but the scene in front of her was a testament to how wrong she and the whole world had been.

Her voice was silent. Her mind was silent. The slaughter shook her to the core, firmly embedding the image that another demonic incursion will cross into this world.

More demons rained from the sky as if they were being expelled by the heavens. One of them was headed straight towards the woman, who had been precariously close to the battle. As she tried to move away to avoid the creature, she realized that her body could not move. Her terror refused to allow it.

As the room-sized projectile hurtled towards her, even if it was just an illusion created by the artifact, she was resigned to her death as utter despair enveloped her.

She closed her eyes and awaited the end that never came.

The woman opens her eyes to find herself back in the chamber, back within the real and reassuring confines of the messy room.

The candles were burnt out and she was soaked in cold sweat. The temperature now was undoubtedly lower than when the ritual had started. As her mind finally registered the fact that she was indeed alive, she once again felt her racing heart beat and the urge to vomit. She barely held it in.

As she slowly collected her thoughts, trying desperately to piece together a possible timeline of event, she knew what she must do.

The lady abruptly stood up from the table and hurriedly tried to exit the room, knocking over piles of tomes and flicking paper into the air. She stumbled and tripped with nearly every step as she made her clumsy retreat. The door opened and closed quickly, disturbing the shadows for only a brief moment. The room returned to its natural state of silence and darkness, only a bit messier than it had previously been.

As she ran though the stone hallway with an unsteady gait, she willed herself to become the herald of this prophesy, to warn the Cardinals of the Harbinger of the Apocalypse. It was her duty as the Thousand Mile Astrologer, mightiest clairvoyant and user of information magics within the Black Scripture, to warn the Slane Theocracy of this impending peril.

The Demon Gods have returned.

* * *

Afterword:

Thank you for reading the prologue of my Overlord fanfiction! I hope this had increased your interest for the rest of this story. I apologize for the lack of dialogue during the prologue and I am trying my hardest to make this story interesting. I will try to get updates out as soon as I can but since uni is starting soon, there very well may be lengthy waits between chapters.


	2. Ch 1: Alone

**Chapter 1: Alone**

A warm breeze blew past 4 figures, who stood in a circle on an outcrop of volcanic rock. They were in the Barren Firelands of Muspelheim. The beings were a massive armored warrior, a centipede like creature, a hooded elf, and a demoness wearing something that resembled a nun's habit. The sky above them was thick with dark ashen clouds and the earth around them was a wasteland of scorched soil and parched gravel. In this lower world of Yggdrasil, an ever-present fire DoT (Damage Over Time) status effect blanketed this world, deterring any poorly-prepared player from exploiting its hidden riches.

"C'mon Max, don't be like this." The voice that broke the silence came from the towering armor-clad warrior. The voice was subtly tinged with distress and sounded like that of a man in his late 20s, unfitting for such a massive being.

"Skar, I just want to have some time to myself before the game shuts down. I've been with the guild for a decade and I've never asked for much. Please. Just give me these last few hours to reminisce by myself." A chat bubble popped up as the centipede-like creature spoke. While its spindly limbs waved about as words escaped its mouth, its jaws were unmoving. This voice, also male, was that of someone older and fatigued.

After a short period of silence, the warrior, Skar, replied.

"Fine. I won't push you to come since you're so against it. Won't even try to guilt you into coming either. Promise." A tiny fleck of disappointment flickered across the tone of his voice. The warrior's arms moved as he spoke, almost as if his body was trying to hide the tone.

"Thank you, Skar." If he had caught the underlying meaning of Skar's words, he did not show it. "Bye."

"See ya Max."

The centipede-man turned around and hurriedly broke away from the group, heading towards an unknown destination.

Another wordless minute passed.

"I, umm, well…" The devil priestess spoke softly, as if to merely push away the silence rather than outright breaking it. Her voice was soft and kind, which fit well with her demure appearance. "I kinda also want to be somewhere else when the game ends. Uhm, the guild hall is great but erm, I really want to see the Gardens of Tranquility in Asgard for myself at least once before this all ends. B-but you guys can join me if you guys want!" Her gentle face was unmoving as she spoke, with only the appearance of a chat bubble indicating speech.

"Oh…" Skar replied, this time with sadness too deep to fully hide. "Erm." He fidgeted as he searched for the words he was looking for. "It's fine Lily, I'll miss you, but I won't stop you from doing what you want. Our guild was never about ironclad dogma anyways." His words were righteous but his voice faltered, but only for a moment.

"…Thank you… For, well, everything. I'll join you when we'll meet again in Yggdrasil 2. I promise." Lily slowly turned away as she spoke. "Again, thank you for everything. Goodbye Skar." As she finished her last word, she walked away from the group. She silently cast a world transportation spell and, after a short moment, blinked out of sight.

'Goodbye Lily'

And then there was 2.

"So Caleb, it's been a while, eh?" The elf referred to the warrior as Caleb, his real name rather than his character name, Skar. His voice was also of someone in his late-20s, having only a dab of adolescent youth left in his voice.

"Yeah, Laz, er, Steven. I forgot that we're alone now, heh." Skar replied. "Haaaaah." He let out a long sigh, more to disperse pent up tension rather than to show mounting disappointment. "I can't believe that they would abandon the guild at a time like this. Though, I guess I can't really blame them."

"Well, people cope in different ways. Some might want to see something for the last time while others want to be alone. You seem to cope by reliving the good memories of our guild, no?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"I, on the other hand, I'm going to my favorite farming area in Jotunheim. You can join me if you'd li-"

"So you're not going to stay with me in the guild." His tone was that of a statement, not a question. "The guild that we've built up for over a decade. The one thing that brought hundreds of us together, that gave us something to see as our own and unified us as a community. And you're going to abandon it too?" There were heavy tones of anger and disappointment in his voice.

"Look, I'm sor-"

"Just go."

"I-"

"LEAVE!"

With that command, the elf ranger silently turned around and left, leaving the warrior by himself in the desolate wastes of a once highly contested world.

* * *

Tier Raid was an old guild that had been conceived a month after Yggdrasil first launched. Its first guild leader, a Tiger-man demihuman by the name FurFurLyfe, created this all-inclusive guild with only two goals in mind: To explore the depths of the world, and live on the precipice of danger. Any player of any race, whether human, demihuman, or heteromorph, was allowed to join, so long as they had shared his goals. Unfortunately, due to the incomprehensible size of the game, his first goal was never realized before he quit the game four years later. His second goal, however, had been achieved. A city filled with life was built within a world of savagery and death. The city was dubbed Sanctuary, for it was a bubble of respite within the danger-filled world of Muspelheim.

The leadership role of the guild changed hands many times, with some terms lasting only weeks while others lasted months. As with its leaders, the guild's primary goals changed as well. Elfonso, the second leader of the guild, lead warmongering conquests against other player controlled settlements within this world. All of them had catastrophically failed. Elfonso was voted out, and another leader was voted in. The cycle had been a few weak leaders who would be kicked out within a month of leadership, and then a good leader who voluntarily stepped down within a year, inadvertantly giving another incompetent leader a chance to take the position.

The cycle broke five years ago when the game had started to very slowly decline. Skar, who had been the guild's treasurer for over seven years, was voted in and brought the guild back up from a slump created by its previous leader. He planned renovations for certain parts of the guild city that increased self-sufficiency, while also organizing timetables and events that promoted guild activity and cohesion. Most importantly of all, he did not step down from this leadership role, preventing idiots from making decisions that would be detrimental to the guild. Even as the fires of passion faded away from the members of the guild, Skar had never allowed the guild to fall into irrelevance.

However, even his time as the guild master would come to an end.

* * *

22:49:23

Home at last.

Skar stood before the eastern gates of Sanctuary, the walled city built with the passion of over a hundred players all united under a single banner. It took years of harvesting materials, farming gold, and rigorous planning to construct such a resplendent city under these ashen skies.

The massive gates were forged from rare metals such as Supreme Trillium and Black Baronite, which many guilds would start wars over. Their lustrous surface glimmered as light struck their intricately carved surface. Depictions of anvils, fire, and dragons cover it, giving any observer the impression of industry and might. The uncracked and unstained ramparts that supported these gates stood tall, as if in defiance of the dead barrens that surrounded it. Each marble-like brick that made up the wall was flawless and perfectly shaped, giving off the feeling of absolute purity within these tainted lands. The architects and artists of the guild spared no effort in making this fortified oasis as beautiful as they conceivably could.

As soon as Skar touched the gate, the world wide DoT that had affected him was dispelled because he had entered a Rest Zone. These zones, while more common in other worlds, were as rare as pools of water in a parched desert within Muspelheim. Cities like this were holy havens due to the fact that NPC towns that provided this area of respite were little more than myths or wishful thinking within this world.

When he applied force to the decorated entrance, he had also acquired the city's Mana Tide Network buff from one of his guild's World Class Items (WCI).

As Skar pushed open the gates to the city, his city, he gazed upon the culmination effort from the weapon and armor-smiths of his guild. He had entered the Industrial District.

The Industrial District was rough and spartan, but still had a distinct aesthetic of its own. The buildings of this part of the city were wide and squat, usually built of either thick fire-baked bricks of dark burgundy or grey slabs of solid stone that looked as if they were carved from a mountain face. Every home had a forge in place of a hearth, while a dedicated forge building at the center the district contained hundreds. There was not a trace of wood or thatch in sight as it was illogical to use such flammable construction materials in an area where open flames were not possibilities, but ceaseless certainties.

As Skar walked through the district, heading north-west, he watched the denizens of the district perform their duties. There were two species of creatures that inhabited this district. The first of these were Demon-sworn Dwarves, a demihuman offshoot of regular Dwarves. Demon-sworn Dwarves, like their fairer skinned brethren, were short and had stocky builds. They are rarely without long beards and, according to lore, are inseparable from strong alcohol. Their disparity however came from some of their physical appearances, as their skin was dark like smoke, and the color of their hair rarely strayed from black and ashy grey. The whites of their eyes were a bright, glowing orange, and their pupils were slits fit for demons or reptiles. This industrious species, whose love for metalwork pushed them to auction off their own souls, worked the forges and anvils. Their movements were almost robotic as they rhythmically struck bars of hot metal, recently pulled from active forges, with heavy hammers and squeezed bellows to fuel the furnaces. None of these actions really helped them forge weapons though, as the programmers of the guild wrote in these actions in just to display the guise of a living city.

At every forge, at least one member of the other species stood by the fire. Black Draconoids, heteromorphic bipedal humanoid dragons, worked with the dwarves, spewing dark dragon-fire from their snouted maws into the forges. While this action was programmed into the AI because it simply looked cool, it actually had a tangible in-game effect on forged weapons and armor. When a Draconoid player was close to someone smithing, they had an option to assist the crafter during the crafting process. The end product, whether sword or plate, would have a small elemental bonus imbued within it. This bonus, while marginal, may make the difference between victory and defeat within a close duel. In a game where balance was as stupid as a brain-damaged ogre, a difference of single digits in stats should honestly not affect the outcome of battles.

Except that it did. One historical victory achieved due to these small differences was the crowning of a certain grasshopper-looking heteromorph player instead of an angel player as the World Champion, as the grasshopper apparently ended the duel with only double-digit Hp. A single additional point of damage over the course of hundreds of strikes could have changed the outcome of the duel. Small edges were not to be trifled with.

Deeper within the area, various short, bearded merchants shouted out pre-recorded lines in order to advertise their wares and attract customers. Another illusion cleverly crafted and seamlessly integrated within a life-like environment.

Skar walked through the entire district, silently observing the efficient workers expressionlessly pumping out weapons and armor of varying quality to be auto-sold to NPC merchants for income generation. Whenever a Legendary or Divine-class item was created, however exceedingly rare they may be, it would be instead sent to the treasury for review and storage.

'Why weren't they concerned?' He mused. 'Don't they understand that their lives, too, would end soon? No, of course not, they're still just AI, following the laws written into their heads. To be so blissfully unaware...'

"Haaah" Skar audibly sighed.

Walking as he was deep in thought, the fiery and clamorous Industrial District faded behind him. His character had unknowingly walked through the gate to the Northern District.

Skar stopped suddenly as he realized that now he stood within a city covered in silky webs.

Giant, spider-like insects skittered around him, causing him to momentarily panic. He relaxed shortly after, as he had remembered that he was still in the city, meaning that they were not hostile.

'I still hate this area. BlackMatterLives and his obsession with spiders, Ugh...' While Caleb never really had problems with spiders in the real-world, as they are practically extinct due to the dead biosphere of the planet, these digital ones eerily triggered some primal feeling of dread whenever they moved past him.

The Arachnoids, another heteromorphic species that inhabited the city, had pale blue carapaces which are sparsely covered with thick hairs like that of tarantulas. Their body seemed elongated compared to that of a normal spider. Frankly speaking, they looked like giant eight-legged ants. This species had eight thin appendages attached to their body, using its front pair as arms while using the three back pairs as legs. As these creatures could grow as large as the now extinct species known as elephants, they made for terrifying sights. Sometimes, their appearance alone had driven off weaker-willed invaders.

'I wouldn't blame 'em either. These things are what nightmares are made of.'

The Northern District, more commonly known as the Fabric District, was where the production of cloth and cloth armors took place within the guild. This section of the city follows the same protocols as the Industrial District when it comes its products. Sell lower tiers to vendors, keep higher tiers for storage.

The only buildings that this part of the city contained were ziggurats, and each of them were covered in thick layer of spiderwebs. These massive stepped structures looked like wide stone platforms layered on top of each other with a small pyramid-shaped building on top. One can only enter the structure from the top, with each layer of stone containing another floor. While each individual ziggurat looked similar, the interiors were spectacularly different depending on the purpose of the building. Residential ziggurats had many rooms filled with various pieces antiquated furniture and silken hammocks while the inside walls of vendor buildings were plastered with various tapestries and clothing.

The spider folk skimmed across the webbed city, moving between each of the ziggurats at great speeds while Skar casually walked through. He casually observed each building, trying to remember each one's purpose and interior structure without peeking inside. The legs of the Arachnoids made a rapid clacking sound as they skittered across stone roadways.

Skar quickened his pace, heading towards the Western District.

Within a few minutes, he caught sight of one of the district walls. As he moved close, past the last few ziggurats, he could see the district gate and its intricately carved surface. This gate had depictions of reptilian creatures with humanoid upper bodies and a snake-like lower body. Some were heavily armored, holding large tridents and curved war sickles while others wore almost almost nothing, holding jugs of water at an angle that allowed streams of water to pour out.

'HappyBolan sure loved engraving things. If I remember correctly, he was the dedicated artist when it came to detailing gates and other large, flat surfaces. Hmm, is he still working at that company?'

As he tried to remember the many details of his former comrade, he pushed open the gates and entered the Western District.

He beheld a city that was partially submerged in water. Its architecture was reminiscent of that of the ancient romans according to the district's main designer, a history buff known as Throatsie. Buildings of bleached concrete jutted out of the water, forming islands and corridors of solid ground amidst the sea of shimmering blue water.

The demi-human citizens of this district gracefully swam through the pristine aquamarine water, getting out only to enter the semi-submerged buildings. Inhabited by Naga and other fishfolk, most of the programmed actions that they execute occur under water. One of these actions includes swimming in formation just under the surface as players walk by the water, creating a dynamic environment.

This district, known as the Commerce District, supplied the guild with food items, mitigating some of the citizen upkeep of the city. Some craftable cosmetic items are also created here, allowing any visiting players to buy things that they could not make themselves.

Time was short.

Skar quickly made his way through this part of the city, heading towards the Southern District.

He pushed past the intrinsically carved gate and went into the decaying Alchemy District. As he jogged past the polluted slums, he glanced at the necromancers silently wandering throughout district, each with their own cadre of undead servants. Many ramshackle potion shops are strewn throughout this district, providing another source of income for Sanctuary. Hooded necromancers and pale Elder Liches would frequent the shops, acting as customers for their shopkeeping counterparts. Unliving Knights patrolled the district, acting as both a rudimentary defence force and an early warning signal in case of player incursions.

Skar hurried from the southern district to the entrance of the Grand Cathedral in the center of the city. This massive building, which was large enough to have its own "district", served as a fortified entrance to the underground portion of the guild city.

He pushed open the massive doors, which towered above even his own character. Images of angelic beings were engraved on these doors, emphasizing the sanctity of this particular location.

The interior of the building had a gothic design scheme. The floor was made of polished marble and every part of the interior had been delicately carved with various patterns. Candles and stained glass windows lit the hallways while the floor reflected the gentle light, lighting the interior even further.

Some robed and hooded figures were prostrating in some of the rooms while others were wordlessly walking through the halls. The entire building was often silent save for the rhythmic heavy footsteps of Cathedral Knights, which patrol the halls, wielding various holy weapons. Their steps echoed throughout the halls as Skar made his way towards the Throne Room, the largest and most spacious part of the cathedral.

He entered through another set of decorated doors into this room. This one was larger than a traditional football field, which were in use before biodomes became mandatory living areas. The ceiling was so high that the orange candlelight could not even illuminate the the top, giving the room an ominous undertone. Rows upon rows of empty pews were lined up facing a throne at the center of the room. Pontiff Sylvan sat upon it.

He looked like a young man in his 20s and wore a garb that seemed to be a mix of traditional church robes and clothing more suited for royalty. The man had long, pale-blonde hair and wore golden, thin rim glasses that accentuated his bright blue eyes. His skin was as pale as alabaster. He stared blankly in front of him, smiling a sweet smile towards nothing.

Skar walked through the room, each step echoing, and behind the throne to see the entrance to the lower level, the Cathedral Catacombs. He went down the unlit stairs, ever closer to his final destination.

The 1st underground floor of the city was a maze filled with bones. The walls were made up of nothing but human skulls and one could not take a step without hearing the crunch of brittle bones beneath their feet. This acted as both a psychological deterrent and a distraction tool, as invaders would be more likely to miss the various traps that fill this floor. There are five exits to this labyrinth, with only one of them leading deeper into the guild hall. All other exits lead to the underground portions of the city districts, each being incredibly perilous to navigate through, only to give invaders a dead end and forcing them to backtrack.

Knowing the layout of the catacombs like the back of his hand, Skar strode past the maze into the next floor.

The 2nd floor, the Sacred Forest, was filled with massive, ancient, deciduous trees. Like almost every other guild that owned their own guild building, Tier Raid had a nature based floor. With the environment in the real world being mostly a wasteland and the Arcology Wars giving people a new longing for the natural world, nature floors were often used as communal relaxation areas for guild members. This floor was also another source of food generation for city NPCs, further mitigating the drain on funds.

How much time was left?

Golden light flooded his senses as he entered the 3rd floor. His eyes adjusted to see a golden city floating above the clouds. The golden gates of heaven in front of him were guarded by angels and other holy beings. While he could run through this floor and make his way down using the elevator known colloquially as the "Hellevator", he had a spell that prevented fall damage. He silently cast the spell and prepared to jump off, a sudden thought crossed his mind.

'Not much time left.'

He had to skip this floor.

Skar used the guild ring of Tier Raid and teleported himself to the 4th floor.

He arrived in a land of permafrost and powdered snow. Scathing winds reduced visibility to a radius of less than 10 meters for those without specialist abilities or spells. Skar, however, knew where to go to reach Blackfrost Citadel.

The 4th floor was the only one that had been originally part of the dungeon that Tier Raid conquered. All others had been changed to suit tastes of its guildmates or renovated to increase resource output. The reason why this one was voted to stay unchanged was due to the desolate and frozen aesthetic of the environment matching one of the guild's WCIs, which was also ice themed.

This floor was meant to be where the guild held its last stand. The layout of the walls and fortification structure gave its defenders unparalleled tactical superiority. Many Frostguard Knights man the battlements and ballistae, ready to rain hell upon enemy invaders if they ever reach this level.

Their end, however, would not be in glorious combat.

Blackfrost Citadel was also the place where the Mana Tide Network had the strongest effect and where the guild designed Minute Guard System had the most coverage to flank and ambush. It was also where their lead AI programmer, BlackMatterLives, designed and programmed the NPCs to use the complex spider-tanking system.

Spider-tanking, named by the guild's greatest connoisseur of arachnids, fit surprisingly well.

The strategy consisted of having no dedicated healers in a given battle-group. All units, which were usually tanks, have one ranged instant heal spell that they would primarily use. The NPCs would focus on combat while healing any target that was focus-fired by enemies to prevent loss of effective fighting strength while still dishing out reasonable damage. This tactic worked best when used to stall enemies, as it is incredibly strong against smart target selection. Like threads of a spiderweb, healing spells would beam across various members of the group, instantly bringing up their hp whenever focus fire shifted.

While one group is tanking, another group consisting of ranged spellcaster NPCs volley off spells from long range. With the Mana Tide Network at its strongest, the spell casters will be capable of using their strongest spells without facing near-instant mana depletion, allowing for insane amounts of consistant DPS output on enemy forces. All of this combined, however, probably still would not be capable of defeating the massive raid party Ainz Ooal Gown faced. No one to this day knew exactly how they managed to wipe such a massive force.

'Hmmm, Ainz Ooal Gown… How's that guild doing now?' Skar thought as he walked through the frozen fortress.

While Tier Raid kept cordial relationships with the heteromorph-exclusive guild, communications between the guilds faltered when both started to lose members.

'I wonder what HeroHero might be doing now. Hmm, He's probably logged off since it's so late.'

With that thought, Skar crossed the icy courtyard and went through yet another set of incredibly detailed gates.

'HappyBolan really put in his all when dealing with his hobby, huh.'

Skar was almost there. He had arrived on the fifth and final floor, the Sanctum.

Like many other guild halls, the final floor of Sanctuary consisted of lavishly decorated rooms filled with furniture and decorations made from the finest materials. The floors were made of brilliantly polished marble tiles and the crystalline chandeliers that lit the rooms twinkled like stars as its own light refracted within it. Upon the walls hung multitudes of famous paintings from all ages. There were even some original works personally painted by the artists of the guild.

Needless to say, the entire floor was saturated with a regal atmosphere. Any invader who would make it past the 4th floor would be enraptured by this pocket world of grandiose luxury.

A torrent of indescribable feelings welled up within Caleb as he realised how quickly everything will disappear. How fast everything will become nothing. Why did this end have to come?

With another few minutes of walking, Caleb reached his destination. Sanctum, his throne room.

He pushed open the final set of gates, this time made of stone and etched with demons and angels. The inside was decorated with all of the resplendent luxury of the other parts of the floor, except this time, the furniture was positioned with much more deliberation. Even with all of the excessively beautiful items of jaw-dropping value placed throughout the throne room, the word 'excessive' would never cross a foreign observer's mind. Even with the massive throne of polished ivory and gilded gold that sat in the back of the room, 'decadence' had never been used to describe this room.

The ivory throne was flanked by two kneeling women, both exceptionally beautiful in their own way.

The woman to the left of the throne had fair and flawless skin. Her lightly curled golden-blonde hair stretched to her waist, shining as if they were strands of pure gold. Her sapphire blue eyes sparkled wherever the light shone.

'Rebis. Offensive spell caster. A worthy substitute for a missing DPS in any party.' Caleb remarked in his head.

The woman to the right had equally flawless skin of rich caramel. Her straight raven hair was as long as her fairer-skinned counterpart. Her golden irises were so bright that they practically glowed.

'Opus. Defensive tank. Often borrowed by members with weaker solo fighting capabilities.'

While their proportions and faces were virtually identical, the striking differences in colours and roles gave them a sort of Yin and Yang duality. If he'd guessed, their backstory and personality would probably be strikingly conflicting as well.

'Haah, you really were into the whole 'twins but not exactly' fetish weren't you, DigiSaus? The whole dichotomy stuff really did it for you, eh?'

Caleb walked towards the throne, this time slowly, methodically, as if each step closer would speed up time faster and faster. How much time was left?

'10 minutes left.'

Caleb sat down when he reached the throne, trying his hardest to look regal as he knew no one was watching.

"Well, at least I won't get the chance to get caught looking like an idiot anymore, heh." Caleb muttered quietly to himself. "Mmh, how about one last photo for old times sake? I could probably print it and put it up somewhere…"

Caleb opened the cash shop window by making an 'S' gesture with his finger. He flipped through the various tabs, searching for the item that he need. Flipping through sections such as Power-ups, Pets, and Gacha, he finally found the section he was looking for: Miscellaneous.

Within this section contained the item, Digital Camera, which allowed one to take pictured in 3rd person and save it to the harddrive of the dive gear. It was rather cheap, priced at only 1000 yen. He tapped on the big green button with the word 'Purchase' printed on it.

'Heh, this'll be the last chunk of money those shitty devs will ever get out of me.'

Caleb grabbed the newly purchased item from his inventory and activated it, creating a floating sphere and opening another window in front of him. The new window showed what the sphere, which was the camera, saw.

Caleb fiddled around with the camera, changing the focal distance, filter, and field of view. When he was finally satisfied with the settings, he made another short gesture with his finger, making the camera go about five meters away and face him. With the window in front of him, He could see every detail of the picture he was about to take.

He saw a powerful demon lord, sitting on his ivory throne, flanked by two beautiful concubines. Due to the lighting and filter he chose gave the displayed image a much more ominous tone. Heavy sabatons and greaves of polished dark metal glistened in the pale light, revealing every intricate piece of detail on their surfaces. The light was just strong enough to reach the Skar's shoulders, displaying the skulls that adorned the thick, black pauldrons. The greathelm that Skar wore was equally intimidating, both in its shape and how it was crowned with a wreath of black thorns.

'Truly fitting of the king of Muspelheim.'

*Click*

With the tap of a button, the camera took the photo and stored it in the client-side harddrive.

"Mmmmh, how much longer?" Caleb muttered. He glanced back at his HUD (Heads Up Display). "10 more minutes. How about another shot without the helmet? Hmm, let's keep the settings and position though."

Caleb opened his character screen and nonchalantly unequipped the helmet.

"Oh."

What Caleb saw surprised him for a short moment.

'It's sure been a long time since I took off the helm. I can't believe that I actually forgot what my face actually looked like.'

Simply put, his avatar's face did not seem to belong to his body. The face was not that of some hellspawn demon, or even that of a scarred and grizzled man. It wasn't even something that looked like the product of teenage angst or edginess. It wasn't even male.

It was the face of a woman. A regular woman. One could say that the hairstyle and bone structure made her look like the stereotypical flawless female, but in consideration that this was a game, it appeared was simply plain and normal. No battle scars blemishing the skin, no tribal facial tattoo, no warpaint, no nothing. Only glowing ruby eyes and medium-length black hair.

The vast differences between body, head, and build, was not something that Caleb chose to have. No. The face was originally there, but the body was the byproduct of bad luck and the "hidden fun stuff" of Yggdrasil.

Caleb's character was a heteromorph with basic shapeshifting abilities. The racial class tree splits early on into two categories: Stealth and Tanking. The stealth category, **[Body Shifter]** , led to the player having greater capabilities in changing themselves to blend themselves into the environment to gather information or to prepare for single target burst. The tank path, **[Flesh Beast]** focused more on a single, tanky form that is used in almost every situation. Caleb chose the latter path, giving him immunity and resistances to many types of elemental damages such as cold and poison, but that was not the most unique part of his racial class build.

The tanking path of his race came with a special, defining passive called **[Flesh Thirst]**. This passive allows him to regenerate most of the damage he inflicts onto enemies, at the cost of having most outside healing sources be reduced to one tenth of their actual effectiveness. The only exception to this rule are healing over time spells classified under the **[Regeneration]** category.

This racial passive granted him almost unparallelled dueling capability, effectiveness in small skirmishes and tanking power in single-party dungeons. The downside, however, is the inability to tank effectively in larger scale battles such as guild wars and raids, forcing Caleb to take a more supportive role in a party.

The base form of this heteromorph race, however, is that of a human race, usually humans or elves. The reason why his character's body was more like that of a large demi-human, was because of something else...

Caleb sifted through his memories, trying to remember exactly how this happened.

In the glorious old days, when his character looked more like a normal human player, he would often take part in hilarious bait ganks with his guildmates. He would pose as a weak, squishy female solo player, often a mage or a healer in light armor. In lower worlds such as Helheim, heteromorphic gankers would try to attack him in hopes of picking up an easy kill only to, when at melee range, get surprised when the small squishy transformed into a heavily armored monster. The transformation was extremely fast and often takes people by surprise. Ensuing voice comms were hilarious combinations of screaming and panic, which gave Caleb and his hidden guildmates time to counter-engage and wipe out the enemies.

In higher worlds like Alfheim, his baits would work by letting himself get injured by local mobs and teetered at about 30% Hp. This would be when some self-righteous white knight(s) would reveal themselves in a rather cheesy fashion, announcing that they would come to his rescue and "save the day". If no one was biting, pre-recorded voice lines often convinced players who were on the brink of coming to his aid. The end result would be the same, ending with a sudden transformation scaring the bejeezus out of the would be saviors and letting them die to stealthed allies. It was an entertaining way to PvP and acquire loot. One of the victims of these ganks even dropped a WCI, which the guild held to this day.

Of course, everything was nice and rosy until the game decided to ruin it. One day, after a typical gank kill on another unsuspecting white knight, Skar leveled up. Now, this wouldn't be strange if he hadn't already been level 100, the max level. He gained a new racial class level, making him level 101. Unlike previous level-ups, however, the stats gained where almost negligible. The racial class was called **[Great Devourer]** and, at this point, Caleb had simply thought it was his lucky day. The only description that was given was that he was now capable of leveling over 100 and utilize the passives, spells, and skills of classes he picked up.

Unfortunately, after many more PvP kills, dungeons, and levels later, he found that the leveling kill would take a random job-class level from the victim. Now, all of this sounded peachy. What wasn't to like about it? Sure, he couldn't really choose what classes to get and had to carefully pick and choose the new spells as his spell limit did not increase, but he had the benefit of choice and a small amount of extra stats. As he had a physical melee build, an extra spell or two to diversify his combos wouldn't hurt.

Well, benefits were not the only thing provided however. Every level increased the model size and shape of his character. It was subtle at first, but after 50 extra levels, he could no longer pose as the bait as the size of the character make any potential biters suspicious, ruining the gank's setup. 100 additional levels later, with only tiny boosts to stats and a massive increase in character size, Caleb would say that getting this "special and rare" class had been for the worse.

Sure, he had access to extremely useful job-class specific spells and passives, but his model size made him one of the easiest targets to hit from range, which ruined any chance of dodge arrows like he used to do. Large-scale PvP became hell as he would be easily volleyed off the field by hundreds of ranged DPS, who shot him simply because he looked large and intimidating in his armored form.

The absolute worst part of the class, however, was discovering how much more significant the Yggdrasil death penalty of five levels was. When he died at about level 200 from aggroing too many mobs in a dungeon, he found that he lost several levels in his **[Berserker]** class, removing the passive **[Blood Rage]** and absolutely demolishing his ability to output damage. He discovered that he couldn't even choose to relevel the job-class whenever he gained a level, as the class gained was semi-random depending on what classes the victim had. It took him over 50 levels of specific player and NPC targets to get his original build back. This caused him to be extremely careful during raids and forced him to outright refuse to PvP in certain situations, as the five level death penalty may be much more disastrous to his build than losing a Divine-Tier item.

In short, the "amazing" and rare class was nothing more than a crappy sidegrade. No more ganks, no more PvP, this one class took away most of the fun away from the game.

'Those shitty devs really had to ruin my build, didn't they? Crap, how long was thinking about the past?'

four minutes left.

He decided to abstain from the helmless shot and re-equipped his helmet. He was, however, ready to take one last picture.

'Hmm, how about this?'

" **[Living Armor]** "

With his verbal command, thick bones and dark red muscle began to wrap around his armor, hiding his menacing armor with even more brutal shell of carapace and flesh. Spikes of bone protruded from his body and tendrils of dark muscle slithered into place. A shell of bone envelopes the helmet, leaving only four diagonal slits for the eyes, glowing with a bright red hue. This was the form he took whenever he enters combat, whether his enemies are trash mobs, bosses, or baited gankers. It was a truly terrifying sight.

He repeated the process with the camerawork and quickly took one last photo.

3 minutes left.

He pulled up the list of guild members and read out their names one by one. Duskino, Habbybolan, StringlessMarionette, BlackMatterLives, DigiSause, Toppest-Kekaku. He continued mentally reading each and every name until he reached the online-members section of the list. All four of them were still online.

'APM-Maximus, our stalwart grand tactician, who led us to an undefeated 10 years of guild to guild warfare. Why did you run away on our final hour? No, you didn't run, you were just adamant in having time for yourself.'

'Lilylala, our trustworthy healer who has never disobeyed a tactical order. The one who was always first to regroup and fall back into line when a raid goes wrong. You had the demeanor of a healer in one of those old animated shows that portrayed Dive gaming before it even existed. Why would she disobey me on this last day? No, it was because I didn't order her to stay. It isn't her fault'

'Lapis Lazuras, my closest friend, in-game and out. You've been with me for over 20 years, since I was only five years old. Why? Why now did you abandon me? Why was I alone?'

And finally, 'Skarlett Sangreal, the guild leader of the Tier Raid. Why did I stay? Was it obligation? Was it because that I was the only one who truly had obligation to stay?'

Only one minute left.

Caleb yawned.

'It's so late.'

He closed his eyes, not to sleep, but to reminisce about all of the fond memories and adventures he had with his friends. All of the dungeons that they oneshotted, all of the raid bosses that wiped their party over and over again. Everything was tinted through the rosy glasses of his memories. As he forced his tired mind to cycle through more and more memories, he slowly and unknowingly dozed off into the depths of slumber.

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Caleb jolted awake. He wasn't sure how long he slept for.

'Crap, I fell asleep. Wait, I'm still in the game. I guess the admins are late to shutdown the server. Haah, I should probably get off now. It wouldn't look good if someone saw me sleeping in my dive ge-'

"Is something wrong Skarlett Sangreal-sama?"

"No, it's nothing. I was just about to…"

'Wait… What?'

The voice came from his left. No one should be there.

"Skarlett Sangeal-sama, i-is something wrong?"

"Hmg?!" A shout of surprise almost escaped Caleb's mouth as he heard a soft feminine voice coming from his left speak again.

Caleb slowly turned his head towards the voice to see the worried face of Opus.

'Worried?' Modern dive gear did not have enough processing power to render realistic changes to facial expressions, yet there it is in front of him.

The voice may have been pre-recorded but-

"Do you dare question our Divine Lord? I hadn't known you to be so rude, sister." Another voice, nearly identical in pitch but completely opposite in tone came from his right.

He swung his head to the right to see Rebis looking towards her twin with a slight scowl.

'This might just be a drea-'

"N-no Rebis! I would never question Skarlett-sama!"

"And you dare call a Divine Lord by such a colloquial name?!" Rebis's scowl deepened.

Everything felt too real.

"W-wait! I apologi-"

"Apologize to our Divine Lord then."

 **"ENOUGH!"** A deep monstrous voice interjected the squabble between the two seemingly alive women, though it had been more like a lopsided barrage of criticisms. It had came from Caleb, though he himself had been surprised by how loud, deep, and grating his voice was.

The room went quiet. All conversation had stopped. The air itself held its breath and listened.

Did this accidental outburst go too far? In a more controlled tone. Caleb said. **"I wish to have privacy. Please, uh, leave this room. I will call you back when I have resolved the, erm, issue."** The voice, while quieter, was just as rough and grating.

The twins replied "Yes Skarlett Sangreal-sama! Your wish is our command." in perfect unison.

They quickly exited the room, as if their lives and honour depended in it.

'The NPCs responded to an unregistered command pattern. What the hell was going on? Maybe I haven't been getting enough sleep. I should just log out.'

Caleb drew an "L" with his index finger to bring up the menu.

The menu didn't pop up.

He repeated the L gesture with his finger to open the main menu.

It still did not appear

He tried again.

Nothing.

And again.

Nothing.

Panic slowly crept up into Caleb's mind. The only possible reason why the menu was disabled was he was being kidnapped. Or maybe this was just a dream. No, Caleb never had a dream this lucid, with voices and movement being so crisp and clear. Caleb, however, held on to this last shred of possible explanation.

'Yeah, i'll wake up soon.' He tried to convince himself.

But nothing explained why the Rebis and Opus had such complex dialogue interaction or how they both had verbal response recognition this complex. The smell of light floral perfume entered his nose as he ran through the possibilities.

Smell?

Smells didn't exist in Yggdrasil. It was outlawed along with pain and taste as illegal sensory stimuli for dive gaming. Yet the pleasant smell was undeniably present.

'Perhaps I should call one of them back and see if I can break another of the game's rules. No. That would be too perverted. What the hell am I even thinking at a time like this?'

Whether he consciously accepted it or not, Caleb knew that something was very wrong with this situation. But first, he had to make sure if anyone else had been experiencing this… how would one call it… weirdness.

"[Message] Lilylala." The line was silent for 10 seconds.

20.

30.

40.

A minute has passed. No response. Did she log out already? Was he alone in his situation? Dread breathed down his neck.

'Okay, maybe she just logged out. How about Max?'

"[Message] APM-Maximus."

10 seconds had passed.

20.

Click*

Someone picked up.

"Max! Hey! Are you alright. Do you know what's going o-"

 **"REEEEEEEEEEE!"**

A deafening shriek reverberated within Caleb's head, along with sounds of thrashing and heavy thumps.

 **"REEEEEKAKAKKAKAKAKAKK!"** More shrieks and strange clacking sounds echoed in Caleb's head. Along with the cacophonous noise, sounds of struggle in the background came through from the other side of the [Message] spell.

Unable to bear the dissonant clamor anymore, Caleb quickly ended the call.

"What the hell!? Wha-" Caleb couldn't even begin to comprehend what happened. Did he call the wrong entity? Did the spell misfire? Whatever it was, Caleb decided not to try calling Max again.

With his ears still ringing, and his head filled with questions about what he heard on the other side, despair started to slowly consume him.

One last person.

"God please, please, let this work. C'mon. [Message] Lapis Lazuras. C'mon Laz, please pick up. Laz, no, Steven. Please pick up."

* * *

Notes:

Thanks for reaching Chapter one of my fanfic! I hope that you enjoyed this chapter.

Since I still need to hone my writing skills, I would like to encourage you guys to write a review. Tell me what I can improve on so I can make it better, or what I am doing well, so I won't change it for the worse later on. If you don't want to though, it's no biggie. I'm already thankful that you managed to wade through the huge blocks of exposition that i wrote.

I'm probably also going to re-read Overlord from the beginning to get a refresher on character personalities.

Once again, thanks for checking out my fanfic


	3. Ch 1 Intermission: Lord and Liege

**Chapter 1 Intermission: Lord and Liege**

"Divine deliverance shall be brought upon thine soul,

For those who truly love thine gods, glory,

For the false prophets and their ilk, damnation,

Our Gods,

Giveth to us, their fair judgements,

Taketh from us, uncertainty and fear,"

The smooth voice came from a young man with long pale-blond hair. Each of his words echoed throughout the spacious auditorium, layering upon each other to create congruous sentences.. Rows upon rows of pews were filled to the brim with hooded figures. All of them were dead silent, listening closely to every word the young evangelist uttered. From the perspective of an observer, it seem that the speaker, who was clearly the youngest person in the massive room, held the highest rank.

"When we giveth our lives to the Divine Lords, who bequeathed upon us our very souls,

When we giveth our faith to the Divine Lords, who granted us our reason for existence,

When we giveth our love to the Divine Lords, who asked nothing from us as recompense,

We reve-"

*Thump Thump Thump*

Several deep knocks interrupted his next words. This sound came from the massive doors leading into the auditorium. The hooded figures sitting on the pews did not react in the slightest. They simply sat there with their eyes closed, silently repeating the words orated by the young preacher.

The man smiled. No, that would be incorrect. The young man was always smiling. His smile had simply shifted.

"Open the doors for our guest, please."

The two heavily armored knights that stood at the door, who could have been mistaken as statues, immediately acted upon his words.

The massive doors creaked open as the knights pushed with all of their strength. As they swung open, one could make out a short figure standing at the doorway. It was short, stocky, and heavily armored. Not an inch of skin showed through its plate.

It bowed deeply as it saw the smiling man.

"My deepest apologies Pontiff Sylvan-sama," The short man had a thick accent. "If I had known t-that you were holding a serm-"

"Please," The smiling man calmly said. "State your name and business."

"Yes! I am designated as Heavy Scout-Dwarf of the Steel Legion, 5th regiment of the Charr Communion! I am to deliver an urgent report to our Divine Lord at the behest of Dagron-sama! I humbly request passage to the Catacombs! Please excuse my rudeness!"

While the heavy dwarven accent blended with the words, it contained none of the intelligible slang from his mother dialect. Of course, that was because It wouldn't be appropriate to disrespect someone so great with the language of common rabble.

"Mmh." Sylvan's smile shifted yet again. "Well, if it was an urgent delivery to our Divine Lord, then there is no harm in interrupting a humble servant such as myself. In fact, I was wondering when your district would send a runner. Ones from the other districts had already arrived before I started my sermon. Hmm, is it because you dwarves have shorter legs? And why did you not simply take the district passages to the Catacombs?" He tilted his head slightly as he inquired.

The armored dwarf stood quietly at the door, bowing.

"Kukukuku, I jest, messenger. I completely understand the situation." A silent sigh of relief escaped the dwarf's mouth as he heard those words. "I've already been informed by the previous messengers that all other passages have been temporarily sealed due to our alert level. Since delaying a report carried for a Divine Lord would be most heretical," He paused his words for a mere instant, creating an air of suspense," you may proceed."

With his approval, the dwarf sprinted through the auditorium, past the Pontiff and his throne towards the next floor. Moving with surprising amounts of speed for someone with such short legs, the messenger quickly became a silhouette in the distance before fully fading from sight.

"Quickly now little dwarf. You'd best not keep our master waiting." Sylvan silently muttered, his gentle smile unchanging. "Hmm, now then. Let us continue our sermon."

...

The sound of panting echoed through the blanched bone corridors.

"Hah, hah, hah." The armored messenger sprinted with all his might. For him, this mission will be the defining moment for a nameless servant. The verification that finally proves his worth.

The justification for his existence. It was at the tip of his fingers.

He would not let this opportunity slip away.

Whatever would happen to him after this task, he would not care. Whether he would die to the enemy or be thrown into a pit of endless pain and despair, he would not complain. No. In fact, he would be elated to die for his Divine Lords. Even if merely as nameless fodder, fit only to be slaughtered to slow the enemy's advance.

The term nameless fodder was not at all a figurative play on words. The usage of the word fodder was apt. He was merely one of the numerous heavy scout-dwarves in his regiment. Like him, all of them held the same goals, dreamt the same dreams, and yearned for the same deaths. Above all else, of course, was their unyielding devotion to their Divine Lords. Charging into certain death for their beloved gods was the least they could do to show their gratitude.

As for the term nameless, none of them had true names. They were simply called by their given class and role. His own was bestowed upon him when he was born, along with all the knowledge and skills he would ever need to fulfill his purpose. The term birth, however, was of tenuous accuracy at best. They were not born from the warmth of a living womb. No, they were created. Formed in the great city that they had the privilege to call home. Those who were lucky were shaped by the blessed hands of the Divine Lords themselves. Lower class weaklings like him, however, were simply fabricated en masse by Sanctuary itself.

'Bless the Divine Lords and their holy city. May their glory never falter.' He silently whispered a prayer as he continue to sprint through the winding hallways of the Catacombs. 'Bless them for their generosity. For giving a weak fool such as myself a chance to prove my worth.'

The Divine Lords... What excited him the most was that he was about to meet one in person for the first time. Those of his stature would, at most if they were absurdly lucky, get a glimpse from a distance. He, however, had the honor and privilege of not only seeing one in all of their glory, but to hand deliver a report of great importance.

Just the mere thought of making tactile contact while graciously handing it over was rapturous.

A lowly nobody like him, having even a sliver of physical contact with one of the greatest beings to ever exist. The possibility was so slim and anomalous that it may as well have been blasphemy.

He moved through floors with wind-like speed, darting past the catacombs and the sacred forest. He was as graceful in his movement as one would imagine a dwarf to be; not very unfortunately. That was of no concern to him though. His job was to run, to run as fast as his legs would take him.

Painfully slow minutes passed as he rushed through the golden gates of heaven and the searing pits of hell.

As he ran out of the cave that connected the molten landscape to the next floor, he suddenly noticed the shimmering snow that surrounded his feet and the wild winds that whipped around his body. He had finally arrived. Blackfrost Citadel was so close. A Divine Lord was waiting there and he, of all people, was about to meet them.

He approached the Citadel from the front entrance, with the intention of knocking and requesting for passage. As soon as he was within 50 meters of the massive entrance, however, a loud crack sounded from the gates. A series of deep metallic groans followed and when the dwarf looked closer, he noticed that the massive gates were shifting. The raucous clamor echoed throughout the frigid wasteland as the gates slowly began to open.

Walking closer, he noticed several armored figures turning massive cranks on top of the icy walls.

Frostguard Knights. They were supremely powerful warriors dedicated to serving their Floor Guardian, a mountain giant known as Bjergan. Every single one of those knights was capable of cutting down thousands of soldiers of his caliber.

When he ran through the massive gates, two of them came over and started walking beside him.

'Escorts?'

While he desperately wanted to know why someone like him was being flanked by two powerful soldiers within the safety of Sanctuary, a sudden feeling of dread stopped him from asking. Both of them were dead silent as they walked briskly towards his final destination.

'Did I make a mistake?'

Terrifying possibilities swirled through his head. He wasn't sure what he had done. Was he late? He was told that it would start in 40 minutes when he left, and he certainly did not take that long to arrive. Did he offend the Floor Guardians somehow? What did he do?

As he cycled through the maelstrom of thoughts, his body went on autopilot. He did not keep track of where he was going, only that he was following the two knights that paced beside him. His mind spun endlessly in circles trying to piece together his situation until-

The knights suddenly stopped.

"Hiii?" A small sound escaped his mouth.

The knights kneeled.

'What?'

This sudden shift snapped him out of his runaway train of thoughts and returned him to reality. He was standing in a massive courtyard and there were several figures standing a short distance away, staring directly at him.

'Oh Lord.'

He bowed deeply and kneeled as quickly as he could without compromising his balance.

The figures who stood there were Floor Guardian.

On the far right was Abaddon of the Seraphim Council, Floor Guardian of the heavenly upper third floor. His spectral aura divulged his nickname, The Angel of Death. A dark, plated robe covered his body while his face was hidden under a grey hood and an expressionless mask.

To his left was Regis, The Grand Demon of the hellish lower fourth floor. He was in his plate wargear, reserved for use only in combat and events of great importance. He looked towards him with mild discontent.

On the far left stood Ash'hal, Floor Guardian of the Commerce District. A slender lamia with long, flowing hair. Her mere presence was bewitching and her turquoise scales glimmered with her every movement. She stared at him with a sneer. There was an air of mocking superiority in the way she stared at him.

To her right was Bjergan, the Mountain Giant who was the Floor Guardian of this floor. To say that he was massive would be an understatement. He towered over everyone in the room by at least 2 meters. His expression was more neutral, without the underlying antagonism found in Regis's or Ash'hal's.

At the center of the four mighty beings was-

"Ah, looks like the last report has arrived." The voice that pierced through the frigid air was distinctly female, though it did not have the hissing aftertones of Ash'hal's speech. It was a voice that made everybody stop and listen. The voice was majestic and awe inspiring, even when used to note something as mundane as his meager presence. It was a voice that he had never heard before, but had immediately recognized.

The voice came from the figure standing in the center of the group. The being emanated an aura of glorious, holy radiance. One that overpowered the auras of everyone else in the courtyard. If there were any doubts of her identity before, it had all but washed away by the grandeur ambience surrounding her.

He was not meeting just any Divine Lord. He was meeting with the greatest one of them all.

"Skarlett Sangreal-sama! I humbly present and deliver this report, sent by Dagron, Floor Guardian of the Industrial District!"

His heart raced as he spoke the words he had endlessly recited in his head.

"A wassste of your breath, little dwarf." Ash'hal rudely remarked. "How much ssslower could you possssibly be? Is this truly the bessst your disorderly district can come up with?"

A drop of cold sweat ran down his cheek.

"Mhm, she has a point." The gravelly voice came from Regis. "The other reports were delivered ages ago, what's your excuse then?"

The dwarf felt like a puppet whose strings were about to be cut. His only purpose in life was to serve his masters, and he had failed even that. No amount of words could describe the utter despair that filled him.

"No excuses at all?" Regis chuckled. "How pathetic."

Murmurs of agreement resounded throughout the massive courtyard. Even the most hushed remark of disappointment struck him like a sledgehammer to the face.

More sweat flowed down the dwarf's brow.

 **"Quiet, all of you."** Bjergan's thunderous voice echoed through the courtyard as he interjected. **"No mistakes were made. The meeting hasn't even started yet."**

"What would you know about punctuality and expectationsss, you uncouth giant?"

"Mhmm, what matters is not his punctuality, but his shortfalling compared to his peers." Regis agreed.

The 3 Floor Guardians started bickering. Every sentence spoken was soon followed by a louder one, with ever increasing hostility in its inflection. It seemed that this process would continue endlessly unless someone cuts in.

"No, I agree with Bjergan." The commanding statement came from Skarlett Sangreal. "No harm was done by his arrival. In fact, I'm more interested in knowing why all of you came so early. The meeting doesn't start for another half-hour."

Bjergan puffed out his chest in pride as the Ash'hal and Regis begged pardon from their Divine Lord.

"Now, let me have a look at that." Sangreal walked over and took the presented document.

"Well done, messenger. Thank you for delivering this document. Send Dagron my regards and remind him that the meeting is not until 3pm if you would."

"Yes! Of course! By your will! I humbly request to take my leave!"

"Granted."

With her permission, he bowed once more and sprinted out of the courtyard. His entire body trembled as he ran, though it was not of terror, nor cold, but of joy. It was utter, unadulterated joy.

He did it.

He completed his task.

No.

He did more than that.

He completed his task with the praise of the greatest Divine Lord.

What more, he was assigned another task by Skarlett Sangreal-sama herself. With his heart filled with blissful euphoria, he set out to complete his new assignment.

...

Leaves shifted as hundreds large humanoids traversed the deciduous woods. Their tough skin matched the colour of the leaves, giving them a rather advantageous natural camouflage. They put absolutely no effort to hide their presence, however, as with every step taken, dry leaves were crushed and stray twigs were snapped. The cacophony of the destroyed foliage alerted any and all of the forest's natural inhabitants, prompting them to move away from the path of the onslaught.

"Gah, shit. Think I stepped on sumtin' sharp." One of the suddenly remarked, adding a voice to the din.

"Sucks ta be you. I wore ma good boots today." Another replied.

"The only reason you got dem was cause you hog all da loot fer yerself."

"You calling me a thief!?"

As that conversation continued, another voice joined the fray.

"Ey boss, can we know wot we're doin' yet?" One of them shouted ahead. "All this waitin' is really killin' me yaknow?"

"Shaddup. I'll kill ya before ya get to know if ya keep walkin' this damn slow." The one behind him replied.

The one at the very front of the group, whose armor was the least crude, halted, prompting everyone behind him to stop as well.

"Mmmmh, fine then. Oi! Lads! Listen up!" His voice was deep and strident. "It's time for all of yous to know what's goin' on. We an' 5 other warbands are going to hit a big one. We gots orders from da big boss's ta pillage real good."

Deafening shouts of approval boomed between the trees.

"However! We gots real clear orders to not hit any of the frilly ones. Big boss wants them alive. Said somethin' bout needin em for somethin' special."

"Oi, so the big boss's really lost it hasn't he? Gone so far as to wantin' to shag those disgustin' things." Clamorous laughter and hoots followed the comment.

"Hehe, ehm. Glad to see ya still got taste lads. However! I don't want none of you killing any frillys before they get to the big boss. He seems real keen on gettin' his hands on em, and I don't want 'im to be pissed at me. And non of ya would want that either. Cause if he decides to smack me upside the head cause we didn't bring nothin' back, I'ma smack all of yous upside the head with me axe! Got it?!"

A unanimous "Aye!" came from the group.

"Cause we Orcs are tha biggest, tha best, and we ain't gunna let that little rule stop us from lootin' and pillagin' the rest!"

Another tremendous "Aye!" came from the Orcs.

"Alright lads! Let's move!"

* * *

Apologies for not putting up a new chapter in a while. Uni took over my life and occupied most of my time. Can't say I regret it though. Now that those nerve-wracking finals are over, I'm going to start writing again. I'll hopefully have a big Ch.2 up before winter break is over.

Anyways, thanks for reading my Ch.1 intermission. Please leave any comments or suggestions. I'm still a beginner writer and I would love to know what I should improve on and what I'm doing right!


	4. Ch 2: A Hunter and his Slumber

"Oh Blessed One, grieve not for the bodiless, for they have entered paradise serving their lord,

Oh Blessed One, grieve not for the mindless, for they have yet grasped the glory of their lord,

Oh Blessed One, grieve not for the faithless, for they have damned themselves in their arrogance,

Oh Blessed One, who grieves for the undeserving, shed not your tears for us,

We, your humble servants, live to die in your service."

* * *

 **Chapter 2: A Hunter and his Slumber**

Numerous arrows flit between the gargantuan trees, each hitting their mark. The flora within the forest were massive. Ferns and grasses stood taller than any man and the trees resembled giant sequoias, having trunks wider than houses with their height extending beyond the cloud line.

Muffled groans, both deep and guttural, sounded the death throes of another victim of the hunt. The massive being fell, making deafening thump as it's lifeless body struck the forest floor. It was a giant, whose corpse was decorated with intricately carved arrows. If it was standing, it would have been over 10 meters tall. Its face was horribly deformed and it had a massive gut that protruded from its abdomen. A ragged loincloth was it's only form of clothing. The creature's unkempt beard and bald head only served to further accentuate its repugnant form.

"Tch, too easy. But… At least it still gives me the rush like when I first came here." A lone male voice broke the forest's silence. "Heh, to think I was actually scared of coming here when I was younger."

His ears suddenly perked as his enhanced senses warned him of more approaching prey. More stomping footsteps, this time from behind. As he turned around, he saw two more giants emerge from behind the towering trees, each holding a tree trunk club. The one on the left had a short, ugly braided beard while the one on the right had dirty mutton chops and wore a sneer filled with crooked stained teeth.

The gigantic beings should have been extremely dangerous, but the archer knew that he was safe. They were harmless to him as he understood everything about them. Everything from the speed they shamble, to how fast they can swing, to how far they can reach. Years of hunting them burnt this knowledge into his mind, turning them from terrifying monstrosities to walking pin cushions.

The giant on the left walked faster, overtaking the sneering one on the right.

With speed and grace he let another three arrows fly from his bow, each of them sank into the flesh of the slower giant. With another quick motion of his hands, three more arrows were notched.

" **[Triple Shot: True Ice]** "

The three arrows flew with little spread, all striking the slower giant in the chest. Upon impact, they burst apart into glimmering white shards, refracting light like pieces of shattered glass. Each shard of the 3 icy blossoms shattered once again, creating a blinding light show that chilled the air.

The already slow giant's gait was further impeded by the icy burst.

While the distance between the giants grew, the faster one was now upon the archer, ready to swing its massive club. With a deep groan, it lifted its weapon from behind to bring it down with a destructive overhead swing.

The giant swung its club, smashing the ground with an ear-splitting crack. The archer was nowhere to be found under the club, however, as he had dodged the attack with a simple backstep.

In the archer's hands was no longer a shortbow. He now held two curved daggers, both intricately engraved and pulsated with power.

With several quick movements, he darted on to the grounded log and up the arm of the giant. The struggling demi-human tried to lift up the log for another swing-

" **[Shadow Blade: Evisceration]**!"

The keen blades went through the giant's neck like a hot knife through butter. No, it felt like there was even less resistance than that. A better comparison would be a knife through the air itself.

A split second after the singing blades slashed its target, the entirety of the giant's neck parted, letting loose a surge of its filthy blood. The archer leaped back to the ground as the slain beast fell, not letting a single drop tarnish his clothes.

The slowed giant with the mutton chops was still hobbling towards the hooded archer with blind rage.

'Hmm, might be more fun to use my daggers, but I don't have time for that today. '

He switched back to his shortbow, this time notching just a single arrow.

" **[True Shot]**!"

Instead of an arrow, a lance of light flew from the elegant short bow and struck the crippled creature square in its forehead. With its final breath, it groaned deeply before toppling over like a puppet with its strings cut.

"Heh, that never gets old." He quietly remarked.

Turning around to face the first giant he killed, he was shocked by what he saw.

The bald giant with the full beard was disintegrating into bright blue triangles.

'Shit, the corpse is despawning. Better pick up the drops before they disappear.' He sprinted towards the cadaver, hoping to reach its body before it fully disappears. However, before he reached the body, he stopped. He remembered. It won't matter anymore. The game was ending in a couple minutes anyways. Why bother?

'Old habits die hard, I guess.'

He closed his eyes and extended his arms outwards.

"The great Lapis Lazuras, Hunter of Giants, The Azure Stalker of Jotunheim!" he said while making exaggerated gestures. "Won't mean much anymore." A small sigh escaped his mouth.

Hearing no more giants in the vicinity, he climbed the closest gargantuan tree and sat on one of its hanging branches. With the increased height, he screened the forest floor for any other signs of life.

Just as he thought, there was nobody else in the entire forest. All of them had either logged off by now or had quit the game long ago. If there were any players in this forest, then there were so few that he didn't run into any during the game's final hours.

A usually busy hunting ground, this forest was surprisingly serene when there were no players around. Even with the giants' muffled footsteps shaking the ground below, Lazuras felt that he could fall asleep on the branch and just let the game log him out.

While he came to Jotunheim to relax, it was fight his favourite mobs one last time, not to fall asleep on a branch attached to some tree. Well, that was his original plan anyways. However, farming these giants didn't feel quite as fun as before and he didn't quite know why.

It wasn't because all of the difficulty in fighting them was gone. No. He came back here before at max level, and he remembered how fun it felt felling them.

It wasn't the lack of players forcing him to fight several at once. He enjoyed juggling multiple targets as it forced him to change his spell rotations to make sure only one came at him at a time.

It certainly wasn't because the game was ending. Right? Even though he spent much of his life playing Yggdrasil. After all, a game was just a game, no matter how much time you put in it.

Maybe it was Caleb. He seemed very unhappy of this whole situation. Maybe his dissatisfaction was infectious. Thanks Caleb.

'He's a great friend, but sometimes he just takes it too far.'

He lay down on the thick branch.

He remembered when he first came to this forest, wide-eyed, with equipment and level far below the recommended. He came with a full party, a tank, a healer, another dps, one wildcard, and a seeker to top it off. It was the ideal party for most situations. It was the first time the others entered the forest too, and none of them was prepared for it. They wiped on a single giant within a minute engaging it. Against those things, standard tanking didn't work, and they only knew how to play standard. The party fell apart after the tank was annihilated in two crushing blows, giving the healer no chance heal back all of the damage.

As he had soon learned, dodging was the way to go. Even with no mobility spells, tanks could dodge the attacks by the giants if they were attentive enough. Caleb was one of the few people he knew who understood that face tanking wasn't an option with these mobs during his first time there.

Caleb... Why does his mind always go back to Caleb?

Yggdrasil was fun. It was really, really fun.

Even at its lowest when his party wiped multiple times on a single boss. Even when they were relentlessly hunted in Asgard. Even when they almost lost all of their funds when one of their shitty guild leaders decided to help himself to the treasury before leaving the guild. It never made him quit. It was because, in Yggdrasil, there was always an up to a down. When they finally killed that boss, their entire party received a Legendary item. When their guildmates finally arrived in Asgard, they turned the tables on the hunters. They even found that shitty guild leader again, dragged him back to the city, and trapped him in the centipede pit until he gave back every single coin and then some.

And all of this happened because Caleb couldn't shut up about this 'AWESOME NEW GAME' back when they were still teens. Right. Perhaps that's why he was so pissed at me when I didn't want to join him back at the guild. Deep down he cared about the game and the guild more than anyone else.

He remembered the first time they met. It was on the cleanest playground under the Tokyo Bio-dome, where access was only granted the most influential families. Caleb was sitting on the seesaw alone and he just decided to join him. That was how their friendship began. He was only five years old at the time so he had no idea of the amount of planning it took for them to meet.

Caleb came from a powerful family. His father was one of the branch directors of the Sino-Japanese Coalition. His mother spearheaded the development of the SPEC Reactor. His uncles and aunts all had close ties with the various corporatocracies that led the world.

While his own family was an influential one within the Greater Tokyo Region, they were incomparable.

In this world, however, the hierarchy was fluid and connections meant everything. Even what friends your child made mattered.

He was twenty years old when his father told him the truth. His father had planned the meeting a year in advance. He researched schedules, called in favors, and pulled many strings for it to happen. He was creating the perfect situation for a friendship to form, so that he himself could rise in status and wealth because of it. He made sure that on that day, there was no one but Caleb and his son on the playground. It was a seed purposefully planted to later bear a sweet harvest.

This was not unlike political marriages during ancient times. His friendship with Caleb softened the social and economic barriers between their families, allowing his father to meet with Caleb's. His father had relied on Caleb to tell his own father about the new friend he made. Caleb's father, known to prioritize his son's happiness, had predictably acted to make sure the friendship lasted. Because of this, his father's business eventually secured an unequaled stable buyer that eventually became a partner.

However, none of this detracted from the significance of their friendship. While their meeting was artificial in almost all aspects, the formation and maintenance of the created bond was of their own volition. They just got along.

Currently, he worked as an "advisor" to Caleb, though at their age and experience, it was just a glorified term for close friend. While children of the working class would start finding jobs at an early age, it was the opposite for the wealthy. Nepotism ran loose in their society, though that did not mean business owners would let their heirs run their company into the ground. Rigorous training and education for certain positions meant that the age of inheritance for prestigious positions averaged at 40 years, with leadership positions averaging 45. Children of the upper class experienced both the luxury of wealth and demanding effort required to uphold their family's reputation and legacy.

Just like for many other people, Yggdrasil became their temporary escape from their responsibilities. Unfortunately for them, their little asylum was about to disappear.

'Yeah, I'll just let the server log me out. Let's me enjoy every last bit of Yggdrasil before the shutdown.'

He looked around himself one last time before shutting his eyes.

"Goodbye Yggdrasil."

…...

The room had all of its lights turned on, or so it seemed.

'Were the lights in my room always this bright?' He thought to himself as he could sense the brightness through his eyelids.

He felt well rested, which was nice. Steven was ready for the ass-kicking he was going to get for ditching Caleb. He's ready for another day of following important people around and going to their meetings to taking notes. He opened his eyes and-

Leaves. Leaves filled his vision, and rays of sunlight poked through the gaps in the foliage, shining onto his face.

'This doesn't feel quite right.' He thought. And it wasn't. The trees were normal size, the leaves were normal size, and he was no longer lying on the branch as he felt the softness of grass on his cheeks. He was neither in Jotunheim nor his room.

He stood up and patted away the fragments of glass off of his dragon-leather jacket.

'Yeah, this **definitely** doesn't feel right.' The servers should have shut down after he fell asleep and he should be in his room. He didn't have any other games installed, so accidently opening one in his sleep wasn't really a plausible explanation.

Everything felt, real. While any state of the art DMMO-RPG would pride itself in having accurate sensory stimulation, none of them could achieve the perfection of reality due to restrictive laws or simply the lack of processing power. This was different.

He felt his clothes rub against his skin and the arms of his jacket gave slightly more resistance to his movements than usual. The breeze felt nice and relaxing, while the petrichor scent of the forest filled his nostrils.

Smell. That didn't exist in Yggdrasil. Soft breezes like this didn't either. Pressure gradients weren't fully implemented, so the only wind he would ever feel was the blast of a wind-based spell or skill.

A bush behind him suddenly rustled.

Acting on reflex, he drew his short bow and notched an arrow from his dragonscale quiver.

A small brown rabbit pops out of the brush, stopping only for a brief moment, then darted back in. Regular rabbits didn't spawn in Jotunheim.

He pondered for a moment, assessing the situation.

An imaginary LED light bulb lit up as he realized what was going on. He was still asleep. He was simply dreaming. Albeit, it was a very lucid dream, more lucid than any he's had before.

Not one to pass up an opportunity like this, he was going to explore the depths of his imagination.

He started to run. Where was he going? He didn't know. He just wanted to see what his dream was capable of. He stopped near a random tree and inspected it closely. He could see every detail of the bark, from the rough ridges, to the small patches of moss dotting its surface. No texture could ever be this high definition. Not for games at least.

Upon closer observation, he saw tiny insects, marching in a straight line up the tree, carrying an assortment of leaves, wood fragments and other insects.

If only Yggdrasil had this much detail.

He started running again, this time in a straight line. He ran and he ran but he never got tired, reinforcing his belief that this was only a dream. A very pleasant one at that.

Even in his carefree prancing, he took note of his surroundings. He was in a dense forest, and from the angle of the light shining down onto the forest floor, it looked to be noon currently. As he ran, he noticed that the trees were becoming more sparse.

Soon enough, he caught sight of the edge of the forest, where the sun's light was unhindered by the forest foliage.

With another few seconds of effortless sprinting, he crossed the forest line and into the light.

He beheld a beautiful sky, clear of clouds. The sun was at its zenith, with its light illuminating the world under it. Steven's Black Trillium weave pants glimmered in warm brilliance. Bothered by the sudden shift in brightness, he put up the hood of his blue cowl to give himself some shade.

'Much better.' It never got that bright in Yggdrasil. Light was always optimal or dimmer.

As he looked around him, he noticed gently rolling hills. At a decent distance away, he saw what looked to be fields of crops and a walled town.

'Might as well check it out.'

His dream was getting more and more elaborate, but he was enjoying every bit of it.

…

The walk took longer than he had expected, taking what seemed to be an hour instead of a couple of minutes. When he got closer, he noticed that the town was actually a small city. One with an outer wall and an inner wall near the center. Parts of the outer wall was covered in small patches of moss and vines. Aesthetics didn't seem to be the biggest concern of whoever ran this city.

There were multiple open gates at the walls. At each of them, there was a trickle of people moving in and out, giving the city a life-like vibrance. It would have been an impressive addition to Sanctuary if they had thought up of something like that. However, cursing this beautiful dream for not giving him the idea sooner wasn't the predominant thought in Steven's head. His head was still wrapped in the gentle excitement of living our his first lucid dream.

Not being especially choosy, he headed towards the nearest one. The gate he went to was stationed by two stern looking guards. Their eyes went to anyone who travelled through the gates, but they did not attempt to stop anyone.

They each held an unimpressive halberd and wore rather generic plate armor. Lain over their chestpieces, were sky-blue tunics with a sigil resembling a candelabra dyed onto it. It was an interesting guild symbol, tiptoeing the line between unique and cringy. It was certainly less cheesy than their own guild's shattered skull sigil.

He joined the flow of people coming into the city, standing between a middle-aged woman wearing colourful merchant's clothes and a giggling couple. The line took but a minute to reach the gate itself.

Just as he walked through the gates-

"Hey, you there!" Steven froze for an instant as he heard a man's voice call into the line. "The man leading the cart!" He relaxed. "We'll have to inspect your wares before you come through."

It was just a dream. They couldn't hurt him even if they tried.

Caleb turned his head to see a scraggly looking man wearing patched clothing grimacing, before silently nodding. The voice itself came from the guard to his left. The guard had his helm open, showing off a neatly trimmed mustache. Two more came to the gate, leading the man and his cart to a small building to the right.

'Huh, so they have checkpoints too? We should've had those in our city.' He was thoroughly impressed by the details of this city. It's lifelikeness rivaled Sanctuary's. On top of that, the NPC inhabitants looked much more alive and dynamic. All the benefits of being asleep, I guess.

He passed the gates and entered the city. While unimpressive in its design, the amount of detail and variety was overwhelming. It felt like every single brick of a building was handcrafted to be imperfect in its own way, letting each house, while almost identical in shape, have its own unique touch of life.

As he moved deeper within the city, smaller houses of cracked brick and dusty tiles gave way to smooth stone walls and ceramic roofs. Children were running around, chasing each other, laughing and screaming under the bright daylight. He also walked past countless humans, but not a single elf, dwarf, demi-human, or heteromorph.

"Tsk. Not very a cosmopolitan city." Steven quietly muttered.

As he walked closer to the city's center, he encountered more and more street vendors. Stalls, their owners and potential customers crowded the streets.

"Guess I walked into a commercial district."

Like everyone else here, he took a look at the wares sold by each merchant. Some were selling fruits and vegetables, others, trinkets and baubles. The only things that were missing were armor and weapon sellers. While the stalls filled with cooked food looked and smelled especially appetizing, nothing else was worth a second thought.

Within the sea of people, only one individual stood out to him. It was an elderly man wearing a colourful, almost garish robe decorated with various small, golden accessories. He was walking by every single one of the stalls, greeting the owners and customers with a warm smile. Sometimes, he would stop a single stall longer, striking up a conversation that almost always ended in hearty laughs.

A priest perhaps?

As soon as that thought occurred to him, he felt his head suddenly ringing. It wasn't the ringing one would experience after hearing something very loud. No, rather, it was like the ringing of a phone.

'Hm? Oh, someone's messaging me.

While he wanted to pick up the call and talk where he stood, it would look quite strange if he were talking into the empty air. Well, there was something else, too. Speech of any kind could be distilled into information, and in Yggdrasil, information was power. Letting his habits beat common sense of the last time, he decided to go somewhere more secluded.

He walked into an abandoned alleyway between two taller buildings, and then made a left, then a right, then right again. He wanted to seclude himself deep within the space between buildings. He found a dead end and propped himself against the furthest wall. Maybe he went a little too far with privacy.

Alright, let's see who would call a sleeping man.

" **OH MY GOD STEVEN ARE YOU THERE?!** " As soon as he picked up, an overbearing, monstrous voice roared inside his head.

"GAH FUCK, SHIT!" He jumped where he stood, almost falling over as he almost lost his balance. The voice gave him a mini-heart attack.

" **OH THANK GOD IT'S YOU I THOUGHT I WAS-** "

"Who the hell are you?!" He screamed back. Of course, nothing good ever seemed to last. If he was a gambling man, he would bet his entire family fortune that his dream was about to become a nightmare.

" **What do you mean who am I? Its me!** "

"Who's 'me'?!"

" **It's Caleb! The hell's wrong with you?** " No it wasn't. Nice try Satan.

"The hell's wrong with me? The hell's wrong with you?! Last time I checked, my friend didn't sound like a demon choking on glass."

" **Choking on… What?! What are you- Oh…** " The voice suddenly went from flustered to grim, as if it had realized something important. " **Shit, wait a sec, lemme-** " Steven heard faint shifting creaks in his head. "There! See? It's me!" The voice was now that of a woman. The voice was familiar. He's definitely heard it somewhere, but it was unmistakably NOT Caleb.

"... Right…" Steven said dismissively. "Thanks but I don't think that's quite what my friend sounded like…"

"What are you on about?" The voice sounded both exasperated and frustrated.

This idiot… Trying to fool me but can't even get the gender right. This was probably the worst and only demon he'd ever met.

"Unless you went through some _really_ drastic sex change surgery in the last couple of hours, I don't think you could be my friend. Just saying. Good try though."

"What the hell are you even talking abo-" The voice suddenly cut itself off again. "Shit, even without my-" A long, audible sigh escaped her. "Look, just trust me, I'm Caleb."

"No thanks Satan, not falling for that one." This was getting tiring, but something about them does remind him of Caleb.

"Wha- Come on dude! Are you serious? Fine, I'll prove it. Just ask me something only the _real_ Caleb would know. Would that settle things?"

"I guess so..." He thought for a moment. A question that tested both knowledge and character would be the best one for this situation. "Alright I got it. Ready?

"Mhm."

"What special little group did we have in 4th grade, and tell me your role in it."

"No." An instantaneous answer with the sternest voice answered.

"Okay then, guess you're not Caleb. Goodbye Sir, Mam or whatever nightmare fuel you actually are-."

"W-wait wait wait fine!" The voice quickly replied before pausing once again. "Haaaaah." A long, pained sigh echoed in his head. "I'm going to kick your ass for making me do this..." Another short pause. "We had our Super Anti-bully Squad… and I was the Super Captain of the group…"

"Now announce your role in that voice you used to do."

"Why would you even-" She said with an exasperated voice, as if she was unable to comprehend the request.

"Aah, aah, Not-Caleb, you gotta do this to prove to me that you're the real deal."

"FINE." Many distasteful mutters flew under the caller's breath. The person was silent for another moment until… "Super Anti-Bully Squad! Role call, Super captain here!" The person posing as Caleb said in the stupidest voice. It was a voice only a little kid would find heroic. "That enough for you?!"

"PFFT AHAHAHHA, OH GOD YOU ACTUALLY DID IT!"

"See? I told you, I'm Cale- wait… what?"

Struggling to speak between each laugh, he replied gleefully, "Yeah I already knew that halfway through our talk. I dunno what's going on with your voice, but you're still the only person I know who would talk like that. The whole proving you're right, the interrupting yourself mid-sentence, classic you."

"..." Caleb paused for another moment. "When I get out of this, I'm heading straight for your estate and I'm going to kick your ass."

Still laughing, Steven replied, "Haha, yeah, don't worry i deserve that. But i still can't believe you would say that with that stupid voice-"

"DUDE! Listen to me! Do you have any idea of what the hell's going on?"

"Nope, not really, though this is pretty damn cool. Everything feels so real."

"Where are you?"

"Dunno."

"I'm serious."

"Me too! I don't know! I don't have my HUD or any of my overlays. I'm in this walled city, but it's not like any ones I've ever been to in Yggdrasil. The NPCs seem more alive too."

There was another brief pause. Knowing Caleb, he was probably thinking up the best course of action.

"Okay, listen up. There's something really strange going on here too. The NPCs at Sanctuary became… Self-aware. They're kind of acting on their own and being, well, very intelligent."

"That a bad thing?"

"No, but that's not my main point. Have you tried logging off yet?"

"Nope, didn't think about that. I was busy exploring the surrounding. I'll try it now though." As he finished his last word, he made a gesture with his index finger, but no menu popped up. "Huh, yeah that's weird. Can't seem to open the menu."

"Yeah, me neither. So we're both stuck here and we have no idea where you are. Worst of all, I'm stuck with some newly sentient NPCs who might just try to kill me. This is getting a bit too strange for me. Okay, uhm, how's this? You be careful and lay low for a while until I find out what the hell is going on here. When I do I'll try to find you. Oh, and while you're laying low, I want you to figure out where you are, got it?"

"Yggdrasil's over and you're still ordering me around?"

"Not in the mood for this."

"Fine fine, yeah. I got it man."

"Just don't do anything stupid. And use Lapis Lazuras as your name if anyone asks."

"Alright, I get it, stop nagging me. I've done this before, man." Just as he was about to say goodbye and end the call, a terrifying thought entered his head. "By the way, would you, like, stop using that voice?"

"The demonic one?"

"The female one. Just can't getting the horrifying image of you after a sex change out of my head. Might need some bleach for that afterward. Especially since you would probably look like-"

"Okay okay okay that's enough! I don't want to have that picture in my head either. Anyways, I'll see what I can do about that. Badass demon king was more of my thing anyways but blowing out your ears every time I speak isn't really viable either. Anyhow, I'll message you when I find out more. probably in a couple of hours, kay?"

"I mean, we'll probably wake up pretty soon if it just a dream y'know."

"I'm counting on that, but I'm planning for if it isn't. Got it?"

"Got it. Lay low, act normal, and wait for the call. Nothing too different from what I usually do anyways. Stay safe Caleb. Don't get shanked by your own guild's NPCs." He said with a small smirk

"Bye." The message closed.

'...Well that was weird.'

Okay, so maybe this wasn't just a lucid dream.

Unfortunately, because of the Kanto Destabilization Event that occurred only days ago, people seemed to be scrambling to take advantage of the situation. Honestly, it wouldn't surprise him if he and Caleb were kidnapped and were transferred to a private server of sorts. While the logistics needed to successfully do that would make the plan nearly impossible execute, everyone had their ways. There were always people who hid their trump cards until they get the perfect chance to use them.

In any case, they weren't in any danger. The most likely course of events would be that they were simultaneously taken from their homes, Dive Gear and all, and transported somewhere with an external power source strong enough to power their machines. The outcomes would be simple. Their captors would disappear mysteriously within a couple of days while their victims are miraculously rescued without a scratch on them. Such was the advantage of being on good terms with one of Japan's most powerful families.

The sound of crushing glass interrupted his thoughts.

Three thuggish looking men turned the corner of the alley and slowly walked towards him. They looked like they crawled out of a dumpster. Their armor was a ramshackle of non-matching leathers and their weapons weren't any better off. Everything screamed out 'vendor trash', but he knew better than to assume. After all, deception was a very important in PvP ganks.

"Oi, watcha doing all by yourself, talking to no one eh?" The thug slurred.

This wasn't good. He was careless, completely forgetting to use anti-information or stealth skills before he took the call.

"You a spy? 'Cause we don't take kindly to those around here heh heh heh. Now, since we're good upstanding citizens, how bout we do our city a favor and end ya."

'How original. Looks like a thug, sounds like a thug, must be a thug then.'

The front thug drew a dagger from his belt sheath and the two behind him followed his actions. All three were clearly inebriated in some way. The way they walked, talked, and drew their weapons were clumsy.

It has to be a trick. Feigning weakness was a standard tactic. Caleb and his bait strategies were prime examples of that.

They walked closer and blocked his only escape route.

'Shit, if they're all max level, I might be in trouble.'

' **[Shadowstep]'**

Like a shadow under a blistering sun, he disappeared from sight.

"What the? Magic?! Where ya hidin' you sneaky rat?" The front thug sounded more belligerent by the moment. "Oi, Durin, Mac, make sure you block the exi-"

As he turned around, he saw a horrifying sight. Both of his comrades, his life-long buddies, were lying down on the stone pavement with their throats' slit. It took only an instant for it to happen. He didn't even hear their bodies hit the floor. The blood from their jugulars still gushed from the gash.

"Shit!" Shocked by the sight back stepped into an invisible body. An instant later, he felt a cool blade pressing against his neck. There was minimal pressure from the blade, yet he felt his warm blood spilling from a small cut.

It was the first time since he was a child that he was the prey. He was the predator. He was the hunter. He was now terrified.

Unbridled terror filled in his eyes.

"Well well." The voice holding him teased. "So you guys weren't that high level after all. Why don't you PK elsewhere?" NPCs or Players, these idiots were dicks.

It took only an instant for him to end a life. He slit the man's throat with a single graceful cut, giving the idiot no chance to plead. It was more than most of his kind deserved.

Another moment later, the body hit the ground with a silent thud. The alley was just far enough away from the streets that no one would find them until their skin shriveled and their bones bleached.

"Idiots. Could have at least sized me up before trying to gank me."

He heard loud cheering and happy shouts as he walked back into the commercial district. There was a small parade of priests and heavily armed paladins walking the streets, and everyone seemed to be bustling to meet them. The robed men waved to everyone as they passed by, the paladin's solemnly marched. Strangely enough, the priest that was previously in the district a little while back wasn't a part of this parade.

Steven looked towards the sky. It was probably early afternoon still if he remembered his astronomy. The smog covered city he lived in certainly didn't give him much practice.

He slipped through the crowd, squeezing between bodies both big and small. The constant pushing and shoving of the people trying to get closer to the parade was rather frustrating, but he held his mouth.

When he finally got out of the sea of people, he resolved to head deeper into the city until he hits the inner walls. He had legitimate reasons to keep on exploring. After all, he was to collect information. Exploring the city in its entirety just so happens to fall under both his interests and his orders.

It took him another half hour of walking before he saw the second set of walls. The walls this time were shorter but cleaner. There also wasn't a single entrance in sight, so he had to walk along the wall for another couple of minutes before he found one. When he did encounter one, he noticed from afar that it had been shut, and more impressive guards were stationed there.

He was at an impasse. On one hand, he could jump the wall and keep on looking around, but he had no idea what would be inside that required heavier security. It was likely that inside those walls was not an area where he was free to trot about. Putting himself in danger like that was a clear violation of Caleb's orders. On the other hand, he was an explorer at heart. He enjoyed danger and adventure-

*Clack*

The gates opened with the sound of a bolt unlatching. The guards, who were in gilded plate armor, stood aside to make way. Out came in a violet, open-topped coach, driven by two horses. The driver looked to be a butler of sorts while the passengers were a rather portly man in his middle age and a beautiful young lady with curled chestnut hair. If the carriage itself did not scream rich, then their clothes certainly did. The man wore a luxurious suit of black, gold, and white, with several pieces of leather sewn onto certain parts for purely aesthetic accentuation. The girl wore an equally luxurious dress of pure white, with tiny glimmering gems sewn into the fabric.

A noble exclusive zone. It would be very fun to explore an area that was likely many times more beautiful than what he'd seen so far.

'No, listen to Caleb. Don't mess with too many things.

After the coach left his sight, he headed back where he came, retracing his steps back to the vendor area. It was probably afternoon now, as the sun wasn't quite as high as it was before. Bored, he looked around the stalls again, hoping to see something more interesting than bread and baubles.

Speak of the devil. It took him a while but he had two interesting things in his sight. A weapons shop, which was the first one he saw in this entire city. It was filled to the brim with daggers and swords were placed on displayed racks and crates were filled with arrowheads, spear tips, and caltrops. What more, a dwarf was peddling the wares. The first non-human he'd seen in this entire city.

He walked closer to the shop to look at the wares. Even without UI, he could see that these items were low-tier vendor trash and crystal salvage. The dwarf himself was about 4 and a half feet tall, maybe a little shorter. Both his well-braided beard and his shorter, more unkempt hair was of a fiery color. He stopped a foot away from the vendor stall, and closely inspected every kind of weapon sold. As he reached to pick up another one of the simple daggers from the display table, the dwarf grabbed his wrist.

Annoyed by the the dwarf's rudeness, Steven looked up from the short table to see the barely taller dwarf.

"Yes?" He said normally, hiding his annoyance.

"Urm, sir." He spoke in a thick dwarvish accent. "I believe that we must speak in private." The dwarf looked nervous, almost panicked.

"Why can't we talk out here?"

"Please, sir, trust me."

Another odd situation. A dwarf, the only one he has seen in this entire city, required his focused attention. This all screamed trap, but that doesn't quite make sense either, as no one should know him here.

They stared at each other for a short moment. The dwarf was very clearly troubled by something. During this time, Steven silently cast a few information gathering spells, but they took time to analyze.

"Well, is there any particular reason why you specifically want to talk to me?" Steven asked. He only needed to stall for a few more seconds.

"Urm, well, sir, it's a matter of… safety. I believe that you may be in da-"

He zoned out the dwarf's words as the spells finished analyzing.

The dwarf was weak, very weak. The readings didn't come back as UI messages. In fact, he didn't even know how he understood what information the spells gave him. Everything just felt like it, and all of that everything told him that the dwarf wasn't a credible threat. Though he could simply be bringing him to stronger opponents. If he were to refuse, he might cause a scene and he would, unfortunately, break Caleb's orders as well.

'Damned if I do, damned if I don't'

"Fine. Your reasons are good enough. Lead the way then."

The dwarf led him from around to the back of his stall. While signaling Steven to come into the house with him, he yelled. "Oi, Urist, man the shop! I'm takin' a break."

A slightly higher pitched "Yes pa!" came from inside of the building.

A few moments later, a slightly shorter dwarf, one with a shorter beard of the same colour came from the door of the small house behind the stand. As he rushed out to replace his father, the elder dwarf led Steven into the building.

The interior of the house was quaint. The walls were of clay bricks. There was simple tapestry hung on the walls, but that made up only a tiny chunk of the decor. Most the wall was actually covered in weapon racks filled with swords and axes of slightly higher quality than what was being sold. To say that they were higher quality may be a bit misleading. To him, it was like comparing trash to slightly less moldy trash.

At the back corner of the room, there was a smithing area with a furnace, bellow, and an anvil. Surprisingly enough, the furniture was mostly wooden, save for the cobblestone hearth to his right.

The main room was mostly lit by thick wax candles. The shutters of the windows were closed, letting only slivers of light sneak through the cracks.

As they went inside, the dwarf quickly shut the door and looked at Steven with bewildered eyes.

"You crazy or somthin' lad?! Walkin' the streets like you own it?! What if a guard saw you?!"

Confused, Steven said, "What? Why should I be scared? I'm just walking and perusing like everyone else in the market."

"Yeah, but you're an Elf. Most people might have to see yer ears to recognize one, but I've seen enough in m'lifetime to know an elf even when he's wearing a hood."

"What does me being an elf have to do with anything?"

"Wha-?! Have you been living under a mountain or something? It has everything to do with you bein' an elf. The people here will hang anything that ain't human!"

"So what about you? You're a dwarf and no one seems to mind."

"Well, that… I, me family, has done much for this city during its time of need, it's a long story but they consider me one of them now. Unless you pull this city out of a crisis like me grandpappy did, I don't think they'll warm up to you anytime soon. Especially with the whole Elf-Human conflict that's been goin' on."

'Elf-Human confli- What? That was the stupidest thing I've ever heard! If humans and elves ever fought against each other in Yggdrasil, they would have been steamrolled by demi-human players.'

Well, whatever this conflict is, he should know more of it. Knowledge was power in Yggdrasil, and it wasn't much different here. It would do him well to learn at least something about this world.

"Uhuh, yeah. Well, I come from a wandering Elven tribe to the West." He said, trying his hardest to hold a straight face.

'This backstory is so stupid!"

"Our tribe doesn't involve itself in much of anything so we're not usually informed with large-scale conflicts or current events. I am one of few who decided to break from tradition and, well, explore the world and see it for what it is."

"Ah! So that's why you've been roamin' the streets like a lunatic! I mean no offense, of course, but the way you were just wandering gave me the impression that you didn't know what to do."

"Yes, you are quite on the mark with that." And you're rather blunt with your words too. "I came to this city to see the sights it offered. I'm sure glad I had my hood on when I came in." He said with faked relief.

"Well, since that's the case, I would be doing you a disfavor if I don't catch ya up to speed. While knowing what's been goin' on won't make the humans change their view on ye, wandering tribe or not, It'll at least let you avoid doing anything stupid." The dwarf smiled pridefully. It seemed to be a long time since he had shown off his knowledge. "It'll be a long sitting but I'll try to explain everything ya need to know. After that, you can stay here for a while, so long as you don't cause a ruckus or get found out." The dwarf pulled up a chair from an ash-covered table. "Here, let's sit down before I begin. It'll take a good while."

…

A couple of hours worth of catching up passed, and several mugs of beer the dwarf called weak human piss-water was downed. Steven learned that he was in a city in the western region of a country known as the Slane Theocracy. The Slane Theocracy was a religious state that contained the most magic users out of all of the human countries. Their religion worshiped the Six Great Gods, who each had their own sect within the religion known as Scriptures. Each of these Scriptures had their own worshippers, leaders, and special operatives.

It's people are extremely discriminative against any non-human sapient species. Any humanoid that had it's uses would be enslaved, while all others executed. Disturbingly enough, Elf slaves weren't uncommon amongst rich mercenaries and nobles. While brutal, their proactive methods provided safety for their citizens and, subsequently, overwhelming civilian confidence in the state.

The Theocracy also bordered three other human countries.

The Bararuth empire, North-East of the Theocracy, was run by their Blood Emperor, who violently seized its throne. It was also the country with the most powerful magician known to humankind.

The Re-Estize Kingdom, North-West of the Theocracy, was ruled by an old king, who would have fallen long ago if not for the support of his powerful Warrior Captain.

The dwarf didn't know too much about the third country. It was called the Roble Holy Kingdom. All he knew of that country was that it had a huge border spanning wall. It was not unlike the one Steven learned about during his history lessons, which was built in the early 2000s a couple of years before the North American Hegemony formed.

As for the dwarf's own family history, his grandfather had apparently dragged this city out of a crisis as he gave away his entire stockpile of weapons and armor during a demi-human incursion, allowing brave civilians to join the soldiers and paladins in defense of their homes. That had been enough to tip the scales in their favor, allowing the city to survive. After the pyrrhic victory, the city council gave him the title of "Honorary Human", which saved him and his family from the non-human purges that followed.

Steven had sat through the entire explanation, wordlessly soaking in all of the new and, hopefully, undistorted knowledge. As the dwarf finished his last sentence, Steven noticed the dimming light that leaked from the shutters. It would be dark soon.

"Thank you for all the info. And thanks for letting me stay here for a while as well. I know you didn't ask but I'll pay you for the stay." He reached inside his gold pouch and put a handful on the table. "Here. How long will this much of these get me."

The dwarf picked up a coin and started to shake. His eyes widened and his pupils dilated. His breathing was getting heavy and irregular.

'Oh shit, what did I do now?'

"S-s-sir, this seems to b-be pure gold. I've never seen a coin with this purity before. The humans might pass this off as normal gold and just convert it by weight, but this… this is something only a dwarf can feel. My, this coin could pay for all of your expenses for more than a month!"

Wow, everything was super cheap here it seemed. A single coin can get me a month's stay? A single chicken drumstick back in Yggdrasil costed dozens at even the cheapest vendor.

"Ah, then take a handful! I probably won't stay for that long, but consider it to be my goodwill and trust!"

"Y-yes! Of course mister!"

"Oh yeah, after all this time I still haven't introduced myself. Lapis Lazuras." He said as he extended a hand of friendship. He had to get used to this name again.

"Garik Stonehearth!" The Dwarf proclaimed as he reached for and shook his hand. "I welcome you to our humble lodging. Please make yourself at home!"

* * *

Thanks for reading! I would like to thank everyone for leaving reviews. They let me get an idea of what to fix/improve on in my story. While the overarching plot probably won't veer wildly because of it, I will certainly fit changes to characters to make them "better". Well, so long as I won't be forced to rip giant editorial holes into already posted chapters.

I would also like to apologize if this chapter's quality was a bit lower than normal. I planned to finish it before school started again, but I failed to do so and I ended up scrambling to rush the rest. That being said, I will try to release another intermission during this quarter before next break.

To answer some questions Caleb is male, but his character, Sangreal is without gender. He has 'two' forms, and the info of his exact number of levels has been lost in the depths of his memories. The thing he contacted in place of Max was not a thinking kind of creature, so ear-murdering sounds would certainly fit. I plan to integrate certain skills into the story, though what and when will depend on where the story is. If some of these answers seem cryptic, it's because spoiling certain parts of it would do none of us favours.


	5. Ch 2 Intermission: Opportunity

'Oh Divine Lord of Faith, whose light shines brilliantly in the frigid blackness,

Granteth us your radiance and let these worshipers bask in your sacred light.

Oh Divine Lord of Blades, whose sword effortlessly splits the heavens,

Granteth us your martial prowess and let your holy warriors striketh down your foes.

Oh Divine Lord of Tactics, whose prowess leads thine legions to their victory,

Granteth us your mastery of the battlefield and lead our crusades to glory.

Oh Divine Lord of Divine Lords, whose might and cunning surpass all others',

Granteth the faithful your unmatched leadership, for we are but lost lambs without thee.'

* * *

Chapter 2 Intermission: Opportunity

It was a bit dark outside. Not too dark however as daylight was just about to break. The melodic dawn chorus today was sung by an assortment of robins, wrens and blackbirds. All of them chirping their little hearts out trying attract their soon to be significant others.

It was a bit darker within a bedroom of a large and pristine mansion. The velvet curtains blocked out any morning light that tried to slip in. Dressers of rich mahogany bordered the room while complex oil paintings covered the walls. A massive bed sat at the back of the room. Its sumptuous mattress was covered with silken sheets and goose down pillows. The word 'lavish' would not do justice to just how rich everything looked. Simply put, it was beyond extravagant.

Something stirred within the bed.

Faint murmurs could be heard under the blankets. After several moments of shifting and turning, a drowsy girl emerged. She was still groggy after just waking up and her face showed it.

"Hmmmmmmmmg!" A rather unladylike groan came from the beautiful girl as she stretched on the bed. Her curled chestnut hair shone as glimmers of the strengthening sunlight seeped through the curtains. While she would have loved to lay in the bed for just a bit longer, she didn't want to risk being scolded.

She dragged herself off the seductive mattress, not caring for more refined methods of getting out of bed. The prim and proper ones she learned as a little girl. 'No one was watching, so why bother' was her fair justification.

She stumbled her way towards one of her dressers. The one that held her morning dresses. Usually, she would call for a maid to help dress her, but she felt too tired to do that. In fact, she would probably fall asleep on the floor by the time it takes one of them to rush over to her room. She wasn't willing to risk getting seen in a position as embarrassing as that. Just thinking about the situation made her cheeks flush.

She quickly picked out a dress. A simple one, with a solid cherry-pink color. It was immaculately clean, just like the rest of her clothing.

"Good enough..." She muttered to herself.

She was now ready for her morning prayers.

…

The darkness was utterly suffocating. It was as if a massive living shadow resided within this abyss. One that threatened to choke the life from any who dared enter this profaned pit.

The floor was a layer of dry bones and skulls, brittle enough to crunch underneath the lightest step. It was a nightmarish environment that broke the minds and bodies of the weak willed. If one found themselves here and held still, taking care to not disturb the bones, one would hear ceaseless muffled breathing. Loud enough to discern. Quiet enough to be maddening.

And yet, to them, it was their home. The cold nothingness filled them with inexplicable warmth.

"Our calls have been answered", stated a raspy voice. The speaker, a human or, at the very least, a human shaped demon announced this to a gathering of similar… entities.

The creatures' faces, hidden under umbra cloaks and skull-like masks. Well, one could not say with complete confidence that their masks were actually masks. In this viscous blackness, it was simply impossible to tell if their visages were guises or their true faces.

Each of them bore a suit of ashen metal armor, twisted to resemble bones. Each held nearly identical black blades, straight, long and deadly.

Whispering voices overtook the ambient breathing, diffusing a symphony of hushed words throughout their assembly.

The voices, though barely audible, frothed with feverish excitement. Calcified metal rattled against itself as these beings shook with delight. Never before has this place seethed with such joy. Malicious joy yet joy nonetheless.

"We have slept for far too long." The raspy voice continued. It held its arms open, as if it were announcing the words of god itself. "Now…. we hunt."

…

"Yuuuuuugh." Yawned the sleepy chestnut-haired girl. It was considered poor manners to yawn in front of the 6 Great Gods, but she simply couldn't hold it back today. Her 'How to be a Proper Woman' lessons yesterday pushed her past her limits.

'How late did she sleep last night?' Was a question that popped into her head. Advanced Courteous Gestures lesson went from daybreak to midday meal. Tea-Time Theory lasted from the afternoon to supper. Wind-Flower Waltz practice… Oh Great Gods… It should have ended at dusk but that head maid was never satisfied with her execution. She kept on pushing the lesson further and further and further and….

'Damn that bi-. No, not in front of the Great Six. Peace of mind is important before prayer.'

The girl sighed guiltily. She had already done too much. She had to make amends with the gods.

She kneeled before her family's private alter. It was a masterpiece of polished marble, though it could not compare with the city Cathedral's. Each of the Great Gods stood around her in their statued forms. Their gentle gaze converged where she knelt.

While she had learnt about each of her Gods equally through Father Irenaeus' religious teachings, she grew to prefer the Great God of Sunlight. The one who cast away the darkness that surrounded human civilization and freed the men of yore from their decadent slavers. It was through his divine will that society truly began.

'Bless his radiance.'

She gathered her thoughts for her prayer. Today, she shall pray for her family, the holy paladins of her church, and, as always, the Six Great Gods who stood above all else. But first, a prayer of apology...

…

'Oh no…' She thought. Just as she finished her prayers, a terrible thought rolled into her head. 'What time was it?'

She forgot to look at her clock when she woke up and she knew that breakfast was always served at 9am sharp.

While her heart filled with slight panic, she quickly walked to the prayer room's exit.

To be fair, missing breakfast wasn't that big of a deal to her parents, as they were quite lenient with her. It would not bother the chefs either, as they are paid to cook throughout the day. The head maid however…

As she went out the room and made a sharp right turn, she came face to face with her nemesis.

"Miss Charlotte! Your prayers took quite a bit of time today!" Her shrill voice only further accentuated her aged features. "Your mother and father have already begun breakfast. They waited for almost half an hour for you to come!" The old maid's thin-rimmed glasses had begun to shake and shudder as her voiced discontent grew louder and louder with each word. "Have you not remembered even the basic courtesy of punctuality, young lady? I may have to weave back the basics into your head before we can continue advanced lessons! And please do not forget th-"

'And it just keeps droning on and on and on…' Charlotte thought to herself.

Normally, a maid would have no right to talk to a member of nobility in such a rude way. However, with how ancient she was and the fact that she taught Charlotte's mother before her, she held special unspoken privileges in this household.

She could only grin and weather the storm.

After the flurry of words, the bespectacled crone led her to the dining room. She was prepared for the worst case scenario but held onto the scraps of hope.

Breakfast was still being eaten. Praise the Great Six.

Her parents were still sitting at the round breakfast table, enjoying their dishes.

Her father, a chubby man dressed in a Victorian-Style casual suit, was only halfway through his plate of eggs and ham. Taking care to not let any stray piece of food stick to his thick mustache, he ate both slowly and meticulously. Her mother, a tall woman in an omber morning dress, was occupied with a foreign gourmet dish known by the name "waffles".

Charlotte internally sighed in relief.

She quickly made her way towards the table, all while smiling a cheeky smile towards her now powerless tormentor.

...

"Ah! The princess has finally roused from her slumber!" The portly man cheerfully stated as he looked up from his plate. "Did Old Edna drag you out of bed again?" He chuckled.

"No papa, I was a little late today because I took too long praying." Charlotte said as she walked towards the table.

"Well, can't have you scolded for being a bit more devout today, now can we?" The father chuckled. In truth, he would not have punished his precious daughter even if she had no good reason for coming late. No. He could never do that to his precious little angel.

She was the diamond amongst the cobble. More importantly, she was his diamond, and he would never let anyone tarnish his jewel. He would make sure of that himself. She was perfect in every single way. The way she smiled and laughed, how her hair flowed with her every step, her bright blue eyes and her perfectly curled chestnut hair.

"Bertin, dear, you seem to have forgotten your food." A woman's voice snapped him out of his fancy.

It was his wife.

"Hm? Oh yes, the eggs. Apologies, I was lost in thought." He replied, sinking his silverware back into the succulent ham.

"Papa," his angel giggles. "Mayhaps you need a napkin." Her eyes pointed to something below his chin.

"Hm? Oh!" He looked down to see a splatter of on his clothes. "Haha! How silly of me." He laughed heartily. The food probably fell from his fork when he started thinking of his daughter.

"Haaah." His wife sighed. "This is why Edna's lessons never stick. Everytime she brings her up a step, you seem to drag her down a couple."

"Oh come now Rosalyn. This time it was an honest mistake, I swear on it." He jokingly put his left hand up and his right hand over his heart.

Charlotte giggled. His wife rolled her eyes.

"Anyhow, how did your Windflower Waltz practice go last evening?" He asked.

"Ermmmm." His daughter looked away as the sound came from her mouth.

'Not good at all then… A change of subject is needed then.' He mused.

"There's been strange rumors going on lately." He stated. "The world seems to be moving quite fast now."

"Mhmm, I've heard from Jensa that something bad happened to one of the shaman princesses in the Holy City," Charlotte replied. "And Marie said that a couple of merchant caravans were said to have gone missing West of here."

"Yes, it truly is tragic that these things could have happen to our great country." He replied as he put another slice of ham in his mouth.

"Ahem." His wife interrupted. "Perhaps discussing such depressing news isn't very appropriate at the table."

'Mmmh, alright…. How about….'

"Urm, Charlotte dear, have you heard of the parade that is planned for today?" His little angel's eyes immediately lit up.

"Oh have I?! I've heard that all of the priests, knights, and paladins in this entire city are participating!"

"You've heard right!" He replied. "Would you like to see it?" His daughter's eyes grew even wider with excitement. Of course they would. She rarely went beyond the walls of the Noble District. She must feel so pent up being caged like this. He didn't like it either but it was for her own safety. The common rabble are unpredictable. Great Gods only know what they might do to her…

"Of course I would!" His little angel exclaimed. "Please let me see it papa!" Her excitement lasted for a split second before her face switched to one in deep thought. "Is Father Irenaeus participating as well? He's quite an elderly man now." She asked. How kind-hearted of her, taking into consideration of that old man's health. His diamond truly was flawless.

"Unfortunately not. However, I heard that he is taking a walk before the parade to greet some of the folks, bless his gentle soul. And yes, Charlotte, I will accompany you to the parade. Since we are heading out before noon, we may see Father Irenaeus as well. "

His daughter's smile twitched ever so slightly. Was it just his imagination? "Papa? Why can't I go by myself? I'm a grown woman now." Ah, so that's why. As much as it hurts him to deny his daughter…

"No."

"But why papa?"

"Because it's dangerous out there, mingling with the the rabble."

"But they are good people I'm sure! All of them are worshippers of the Great Six just like us! It's not as if they're heathens!"

The father looked towards his wife for support.

"Well, Bertin dear, she's not wrong." She said with a shrug.

'Of course you would betray me at a time like this.' No, perhaps he was being a bit too overprotective. All the daughters of the other noblemen frequent the outer city. However…

"No Charlotte, I can't let you go alone today. Not even with guards. However I will consider it for another day. However, we will travel by coach to watch the parade. Together." He emphasized.

…

The light had just faded from the sky, heralding the nightly chirps of crickets and the dance of the fireflies. Save for a relatively small area, forest was nearly pitch black as the full moonlight was blocked by the towering trees overhead. The exception to this, however, was a large encampment deep within the forest, brimming with pyres.

Unlike its surroundings, it was both bright and boisterous. Hoots, laughter, and other sounds of unbridled merriment coursed through the camp. Its inhabitants cared not for tranquility, as they knew that they would crush whoever dared to come and silence them.

Near the center of this camp, an orc strapped in crude metal plates and leather walked towards a beat-up wagon. This orc seemed to be on the younger side as he had with very few wrinkles and scars that signaled age and veterancy. His head was mostly shaved, except for a small part near the back, where it was tied to form a short, ragged ponytail.

"Oi, ya wot mate?" The approaching green skinned brute exclaimed. "Whatya mean all tha' good stuff's gone?"

"Hah!" An older orc in similar looking armor, who stood in front of the broken down cart, laughed. "Ya we're late to tha party. The good rum in the convoy we sacked are all gone. Now take yer pick, pisswater or fruity drinks or sod off."

"Rather drink me own piss than that. Ya really got nothin' good in those barrels?"

"Bah, been all gone for a while now. Nothing but air and piss in those." The 'bartender' said as he nodded his head towards a large pile of barrels. "Try anotha' cart. Maybe you'll have better luck there."

The orc grunts with mild frustration as he walked away.

'Now where's the otha' wagons?' He thought. With his luck, the others probably ran out of good booze too. 'Shit. Might as well go back to me own fire.'

The camp was as lively as ever. Each fire had its own party. Jokes were told, laughs were had, and brews were drank. The alcohol only made things livelier.

After mingling with the parties while moving through the camp, he saw a familiar face sitting at his campfire.

"Oi Gromgash! How'd tha booze run go?" The orc near the fire shouted. This one was a bit older, with several scars displayed proudly on his face. He wore an unkept war hawk hairstyle and a short tied beard.

"Ah, nothin' but pisswater and fruity ones." The orc walking to his bonfire replied. "Might as well not drink at all with the choices we got."

"Hah! Well we're in luck. Guess what I got?" He held a large bottle in his hand. It looked big even in his massive hands, which was rather impressive all things considered. The bottle had strange, illegible markings on it, but what mattered was that it carried the universal 'XXX' symbol inked onto its side.

"Shit! Howdya find that?!" Gromgash exclaimed as he looked closer at the bottle. "Oi this better be tha real deal."

"Of course it is! You think yer ol' pal Kahnor would play dirty tricks like a snivelin' goblin? Since all tha' wagons've been emptied, it cost me that hat I looted off from a sod's body. If it ain't tha real deal, I'll bash tha bottle on tha seller's head meself."

Gromgash and Kahnor both grabbed a mug on the ground. Gromgash sat down on the dirt near his friend and waited for him to open and pour the alcohol.

"This yer first raid ain't it?" Asked the slightly older orc as he popped open the bottle.

"Ain't it yours too?" Gromgash replied as he watched his mug fill up. "Just cause yer' my senior by a year dun't mean you gots that much more experience. But… Gotta say me stomach's feelin' the excitement already."

"Same e're I'll admit. We'll finally see some real action after ten damn years of nothin'. It's strange though. Usually we'd raid those elves but boss says we're goin' further this time. We've already walked past the knife ears' homes."

"What? We're raidin' _them_? Wasn't that a rule made by tha biggest boss?"

"Ye, by our old biggest boss. This one is different. Our biggest boss now wants to go in there to get frillys for one of his rituals. I've heard from the boys that he saw a vision. The orc god comin' down to rally the clans and conquer the world."

Shivers went down Gromgash's back. "The entire world? That sounds damn crazy to me."

"Haha! Sounds damn crazy to me too, but if it's an excuse to fight, then I ain't complainin'." Kahnor said with confidence. "Anyways, tonight ain't for talk like that. The booze'll get warm if we don't drink now."

"Agreed!"

They struck their mugs together in unison, producing a hearty thus as its contents splash about. Such was the life of a raider. One day, there may be nothing but walking. Another, you might just sack a caravan full of expensive rum and champagne.

Tonight, life was good.

…

Under the starry night sky, the bustling city was now tranquil, with only the chirping of crickets and the dance of the fireflies to disturb the streets. The only signs of human life were the unfortunate guards who drew the midnight shifts.

Charlotte's bedroom was only dimly lit by magic candlelight. The artificial orange hues splashed across the walls and furniture gave it a warm, soothing ambiance.

The door to the room cracked open to reveal a yawning Charlotte in a turquoise nightgown.

Today had been both fun and tiring for her. While she did not get to explore the city on her own, she did manage to talk with Father Irenaeus and watch the paladins, knights, and priests march the streets.

The display was glorious. Paladins, great warriors of justice, lead the parade in their shining gilded plate. The knights at followed at the center, with their synchronized footsteps creating a consistent beat. And the friendly priests, who cast beautiful colors into the sky above using magical staffs. It was truly a glorious sight to behold.

Taking in all of the sights and sounds exhausted both her mind and body, and she was just about to retire for the day.

As part of her usual ritual before bed, she walked to the curtains and parted them to reveal the clear night sky.

Tonight, the moon was at its brightest. It's light filled the land underneath it's beautiful gaze. Something about that celestial object just calms Charlotte's heart and fills her with satisfaction.

Tonight was no different. Well except for one thing. Even after going through the city and watching the parade, Charlotte still felt the wanderlust in her heart, shifting and turning, looking for more ways to alleviate its desires.

The parade wasn't enough. She wanted more.

But how would she be able to get her way? Charlotte pouted. 'I'm going to get my way papa. Just you wait.'

She'll have to make a plan. A very good one. Evading her father's eyes and ears throughout the mansion is nearly impossible.

Charlotte jumps on her plush bed, partially sinking into the luxurious mattress.

Thoughts raced through her head, assailing her tired mind with various plans to sneak past her father and his guards. How would she do it? Would she bribe them? Or could she simply give them a heart-rending stare, hoping to guilt them into letting her out? Most importantly, how would she apologize to papa if she gets caught? He is a very forgiving person, but she's never went out of her way to disobey him before.

'Bleh, too many things in my head.' Charlotte thought.

Good plans took time. Greater ones took even longer. Those were the words her father constantly drilled into her. Rushing things would only create mistakes.

For now, it was time to rest. She pushed her face into the large, soft pillow and fell asleep under the gentle moonlight.

* * *

Note: Hi, sorry for the long wait. I'm finally on my spring break now so I can write a bit more. So far, I'm trying out multiple points of view in a single chapter. Splitting gives me more leeway to cut some stuff and come back to the person after said boring stuff is non-awkwardly cut. Tell me how it is instead of having to focus on 1 guy for the entire chapter? Next chapter probably won't have that because I planned it already.

I would also like to apologize for some of the sloppy writing in chapter 2. I didn't manage to finish some of the parts before winter break came to an end and I was rushing to finish it. I'll hopefully get the next chapter out before midterms start for next quarter. When summer break starts, I'll be able to write a lot more.

Anyways, tell me what you think of this chapter! Any suggestions, advice, compliments and criticisms are welcome!

Edit: I severely underestimated how much time my courses are occupying. Unfortunately, I don't think I will be able to update until finals are over. I should be able to write again early June. And I will also have much more time to write for the entire summer.


	6. Ch 3: Corporate Hierarchy

"Blessed be, the holy day of reckoning,

For it shall be one where sinners are granted their just dues,

Where the iconoclasts are stripped of their flesh and the infidels of their souls,

Yet the faithful shall be rewarded,

Glory for the crusader, peace for the resolute, and paradise for the evangelist,

For those who serve the greater good-"

Pontiff Sylvan broke off from his prayers as he heard faint sounds from the corridor beyond his auditorium. The faithful sitting on the pews took no notice of this interruption, continuing their prayers in solemn silence.

The noise was faint yet distinct, becoming ever louder in his ears as the seconds passed. There was the sound of graceful slithering across the polished tiles of these sacred halls. Another of sharp, rhythmic clacking of chitin-plated feet. The third was the deep, thundering footsteps of a massive, tireless warrior. The polyrhythm of the mingling movements was frantic. As one increased its pace, the two others sped up to match.

'Ah, the messengers.'

While it seemed almost excessive to deliver a report an hour before it is wanted, he could not fault their fervent dedication to their duties.

'How peculiar.' He thought. He heard only the footsteps of three couriers when reports were requested from all four districts.

'So where was the fourth?'

While odd, this would not affect his actions. A complete set or not, it was still his mandated duty to greet visitors and provide passage to the catacombs below his cathedral. While it was unfortunate that he had to interrupt his sermon to do so, the fulfillment of a divine duty preceded all other interests.

* * *

Chapter 3: Corporate Hierarchy

"Bye."

"Haaah.." Caleb sighed deeply. "At least I'm not alone…"

Managing to contact at least one of his friends brought him back from the edge of despair. The fact that it was also his closest friend and coworker, as annoying as he can be, was most certainly a pleasant bonus.

At the very least, he was not alone.

Even so, nothing quite seemed to add up. What especially bothered him was the flood of new sensory info. Besides the fact that smell was now possible, the NPCs that had left the room also spoke complex sentences and moved unnaturally, well, naturally. Gone was the rigid beat of predetermined NPC pacing.

He shifted himself on his throne.

His armor felt weightier too. Not too heavy to be bothersome, but most certainly heavy enough for him to feel the small resistance that accompanied his every movement. Frankly speaking, it seemed that the game came to life. Or, at the very least, his Floor Guardian Administrators, Rebis and Opus, did.

"Rebis! Opus!" He loudly called out. Was that too harsh? Would a softer tone yield better results? He was still halfway through his subordinate psychology course when Yggdrasil was going to shut down. What he did know was that every person responded differently to different ways of vocalizing requests and commands. Some worked best when given direct and blunt orders, others held responded more efficiently when orders and worded into "suggestions." While it would be convenient if both of them had the former preference, he wouldn't put it past them to be closer to the latt-.

The massive doors abruptly swung open, sending a gust of wind towards him. Rushing through were the two Floor Guardian Administrators. They kneeled as soon as they were only a few feet from the throne.

"We are at your beck and call."

"We are at your beck and call." Simultaneously answered the twins.

'A very encouraging response. Former it is.'

He sat there in silence for a few seconds, half of his attention partitioned towards what he will say, the other half simply observing the two.

They were so animated. He could see their chests expand and contract ever so slightly with each breath. Their silken hair shifted every little movement of their heads and their eyes, with dilating pupils, looked at him with expectant anticipation.

'Think Caleb think… What should I do now? What would my father do?'

"Rebis, what is the time currently?"

"It is half an hour past noon Skarlett Sangreal-sama."

"Calling me Sangreal is fine. Using my full name is a bit wordy don't you think?"

"By your will Sangreal-sama!" Rebis paused briefly before answering with gusto.

Did something about that request bother her? In any cause he had figured out the best course of action. An efficient Board Director would have frequent meetings with their subordinate officers.

A meeting would kill two birds with one stone. A face to face meeting under normal circumstances was an effective way to provide information and expectations. It also acts as a mechanism for decision making as well an effective medium for feedback and discussion.

The other bird, in this situation, was to uncover the unknown attributes of his subordinates. The most important one, of course, was their loyalty. Another less pressing goal was to confirm if they were anything like how his friends had designed them to be. So far, Rebis and Opus were almost identical to their character descriptions. DigiSaus was heavily into duality, and their personalities fit perfectly with his ideals. 'Never one without the other.' He would frequently mutter whenever he fawned over his creations. Actually, he did seem to spend a rather unhealthy amount of time staring at them whenever he came online…

Caleb snapped away from his thoughts before he could further speculate the reasoning behind his friend's strange behavior.

In any case, because of Lapis's accounts, he will hold the assumption that all Floor Guardians and NPCs have become sentient, as well as the fact that the outside world could be wildly different from what he had known previously. However, he must confirm both assumptions during the meeting. Just in case.

"Send a message to all Floor Guardians to arrive at the courtyard of Blackfrost Citadel at 3pm sharp for a meeting. Additionally, the Floor Guardians of all four city districts are to send scouts 10km outward from their respective quadrants outside of Sanctuary. We will need to confirm our surroundings. Have the reports, one raw copy and one refined copy, delivered to me directly 30 minutes prior to the meeting. Furthermore, I will require an additional report from the Eastern Industrial District on the status of their ore mines, one from the Western Commerce District on the production of food consumables, one from the Southern Alchemy District on potion production and herb supplies, and one from the Northern Fabric District on raw silk production. It is an imperative that all four districts halt the export of all products produced and begin stockpiling."

After the extensive laundry list of orders, he paused to think of anything that he missed.

Ah, how could he forget, his voice.

While knew that the arachnoid infested the Northern Fabric District and the Silken Webways below stored and produced rather high quality lips bugs, the Sunken Caverns underneath the Western Commerce District had a more suitable alternative.

"And have several Siren Leeches sent to my quarters before 10pm tonight. That is all. You may take your leave."

"By your will Sangreal sama!" The twins stated, once again, in satisfyingly perfect unison.

They departed from the throne room with the same speed and conviction as they had rushed in.

'At the very least those two seemed to be loyal.'

Looking back on his orders, he was not sure if he did everything correctly.

'How was my voice? Was my wording appropriate of my position? Did I list things too quickly? Would that have created confusion? Or perhaps an excuse for purposeful failure?' These thoughts tumbled through his head, constantly reminding him that, while he would eventually succeed his father, he was still inexperienced and only partially trained.

Casting aside the thoughts of his inadequacies, he moved on to a different matter.

What if his Floor Guardians were not loyal? What if they outright refused to follow him? What if they feigned obedience, but plotted their succession in secret? Though the severity and method would vary, this was a problem that never failed to plague corporations.

Even if these thoughts were the product of unfounded paranoia, it was never a bad idea to have a contingency plan just in case. While the prospect of protecting himself from almost a dozen fully leveled and well equipped beings, all with possibly heightened intelligence and ruthless tactics, seemed excruciatingly daunting, an idea came to him.

"Perfect." He said as he smiled.

As he rose from his throne, a stray thought entered his mind.

Here, he was not the young and inexperienced Caleb, but the almighty Skarlett Sangreal. The Guild Leader of Tier Raid. As a leader he had to be adaptive, and if he must submerge himself in his role, then so he shall.

If he was to succeed in this world, he must do so under this name.

…

The walk between the throne and APM-Maximus's personal bedroom took a little over 10 minutes. Like all other member-owned private rooms, his was on the 5th and final underground floor of the guild city.

Since only the room-owner had full decoration privileges to their quarters every room held its own aesthetic and personality. One could be brimming with bright colors and gaudy embellishments, another could replicate the rustic tranquility of the past when natural forests still existed. Max's room, however, was on a completely different level.

The room itself was in stark contrast to the hallway just outside. It was spartan and almost devoid of furniture, with both the walls and floors being an unpainted gray concrete-like material. The only two pieces of furniture there was an unusually luxurious bed and and massive marble table at the center of the room.

While the bed was a rare and valuable respawn-point furniture, it was the table that caught Skarlett's interests. Well, the object on the table to be accurate.

Sitting on the table, was a beautifully engraved square board, with a flawless Empyrean Diamond sphere embedded at its center.

His personalized RTS command orb.

The main reason why Max held the role of tactician in the guild was that he was the absolute best and micromanaging the NPCs to maximum effectiveness around the floors during combat. He would effortlessly stutter step with ranged defenders to kite melee invaders, and optimally command the usage of devastating AOE nukes.

His skill came at no surprise as he once reigned as Eurasia's greatest CraftStar 4 professional gamer. The game itself was a popular Real Time Strategy whose development went on an infamous 100 year hiatus after the finale of the 3rd installment, which itself was delayed for nearly a decade. Caleb remembered watching several matches during his adolescence, but the mind numbingly complicated gameplay ultimately turned his interests elsewhere.

Skarlett approached the board, remembering the countless number of battles turned in their favor through Max's unparalleled mastery of unit control. If he himself could utilise this power, there would be little that he had to fear internally.

The existence of the orb itself was thanks to Max's bitter criticism of the base game's NPC control system, which was considered to be both clunky and outdated, even when put in the most generous of way. This criticism gave the guild's programmers and CGI artists impetus to design a superior unit manipulation system. This lead to what the guild called the Tactical Movement System, TMS for short.

Through the incorporation of hand gesture recognition software and ingame spatial compatibility, the orb allowed smooth and unparalleled control of NPC's.

As Skarlett hovered both gauntleted hands over the TMS, the jewel at the centered glowed softly. A split second later, a holographic image projected from the centered jewel.

The image was a bird's eye view of Sanctuary. The image itself was three dimensional, allowing for greater flexibility in viewing and controlling things on multiple planes. If he had remembered it correctly, blue squares were melee allies, blue circles were mage friendlies, and blue triangles indicated ranged allies.

With the unclasping of his right hand, the map zoomed in accordingly.

'Good, at least it's intuitive.'

He zoomed in on the undead populated Alchemy District. As the image magnified, the blue dots became tiny models of the patrolling NPCs. Everything in the models' lines of sight was shown as a noticeably brighter area on the display.

Strange. There are more guards stationed at the wall than usual. What looked to be Revenant Archer Elites stood guard along the walls. Those mobs should have been stationed in the vast Undercity below the Alchemy district, no at the surface district itself.

Another peculiar oddity was the Death Lords that patrolled the streets below. They should have been held in reserve for deployment in Spider-tanking formation.

"Hmmm…. Let's try..." He muttered. Skarlett tapped a Death Lord on the display. It stopped in its tracks.

'Good, a response.'

He double tapped a nearby alleyway. It followed his directive, marching into the space between the buildings.

'An even more promising result!'

With another tap onto its model, he deselected it. The undead held still for a couple of moments, before resuming its patrol path.

Now, onto something more powerful… He flicked his right hand upwards, changing the view to the underground portions of each district. While the sprawling Undercity was bespeckled by blue dots, it was Sunken Caverns to the north that sat his objects of interest.

War Krakens. These massive and destructive leviathans, bought with real money during the aquatic expansion patch special event. While their damage was only on par with a poorly equipped max level tank, it was their crowd control that made them so valuable. With the right control and timings four of them could permanently lock down several parties in perpetually chained stunlocks.

Were they an integral part of the guilds defense system? Yes.

Were they worth the price of 20000 Yen per Kraken? Highly debatable.

He repeated the same gestures and movements with the War Krakens as he did with the Death Lords. Expectedly, they followed the commands with neither complaint nor hesitation.

Satisfied with the results, Skarlett clapped his hands together to turn off the board and put it in his... Huh?

As he thought of putting it in his inventory, the object was pushed into a dark void. As he let go of the object and brought his hand out from the shadowy oval, it disappeared instantaneously. There was no UI to indicate anything, but he somehow knew that he still had the object. Somewhere.

Intrigued, he thought of getting a Potion of Exalted Strength and, as he reached out once again, his hand went into a void and came out with exactly what he wanted.

'Good, another intuitive system.' He thought. Intelligent design was still surprisingly rare in this day and age. One should always appreciate these rare gems that one may happen across.

His confidence in his physical safety, now bolstered by the entirety of the guild's muscle, was no longer in question. Now that he could safely travel anywhere within the guild, he could investigate any matter of interest with little fear from seditious elements if they existed. As luck would have it, he already had a matter he wanted to investigate.

...

'Damn the guild ring was useful.' Was what he would say when he teleported to an alley in the Alchemy district, but because he wanted to be discrete, he kept his appreciation to himself. With a simple item activation, he went from Max's bleak bedroom to the patrolled streets of the Alchemy District within the blink of an eye.

Immediately, he confirmed the strange deployments of the undead guards. Just as the TMS showed him, there were many Death Lords patrolling the streets and innumerable Revenant Archer Elites standing guard along the walls. The only discrepancy from his earlier observation was the presence of Blackfire Arbalists, which mingled among the other archers. However, that could just be chalked up to his own inattention.

Something else suddenly caught his eye. Something more glaringly noticeable when you don't see from a bird's eye view.

The sky.

Instead of the being choked by dark clouds of fire and ash that were nigh ubiquitous in Muspelheim, the sky was… clear.

The sky was a bright blue hue with sparse clouds, white and wispy, scattered across the heavens like islands in an endless blue ocean.

The fact that it was not the familiar sky of Muspelheim was what caught his attention, but what kept him staring towards it was its vibrant beauty. It was no reproduction. It truly felt like the sky that had been forever gone a hundred year before he was even born.

If the sky itself was so drastically different, then what about the lands below it? Looking at the walls, he saw the pointed tips of tall coniferous trees and the rounded tops of its deciduous cousins barely poking above them.

Trees? Another thing that was unheard of in Muspelheim. Another thing that captured his interest.

Through meticulous planning, the city itself was smaller than it could have been. The walls ended a large distance before it reached the edge of the imposed build area limit. During sieges it allowed allies to teleport behind and flank invaders. Now, it would let him leave the city without a single soul to notice him.

Unable to contain his excitement, he took the initiative and activated his ring once more.

…

Green. Everything was green.

The leaves were green, the grass was green, the moss covered tree trunks were green.

He was in a gorgeous verdant paradise. A forest that put the ones in Yggdrasil to shame. The leaves rustled and shuddered as wind blew across the canopy. The melodic chirping from various different birds were music to his ear and the deep rumbling growls that came from the dense bushy foliage around him…

"Huh?"

Skarlett snapped from his euphoric stupor. How long did he just stand there in mindless bliss while an unknown number of… something… surrounded him?

As quickly as the elation left him, unease surged in to replace it. The unease was not alone, however, as his embarrassment at his own naivety seeped into the mixture of negative emotions.

The growls mingled with deep snarls as the hidden beasts paced from the shrubs.

Wolves.

Wolves, wild and rapid with saliva drooling from their muzzles, slowly circled around him. A pack of at least a dozen strong.

These wolves were surprisingly small however. No, that wasn't right. It was just that he was much larger than a normal human. However their smaller size did not detract from their ferocious appearance.

As ridiculous as it sounded, the massive, heavily armored warrior just stood there, nervous and still. The difference in behavior between the digital wolves of Yggdrasil and these ones were staggering. While in the game, they would simply charge at you if you get into their aggro range, these ones stayed a distance, growling and snapping, closing in ever so slowly. This seemingly insignificant change made all the difference between feeling like you're playing a game, and feeling alone and hunted. With this situation being the latter, Caleb's fight or flight response was inadvertently triggered, making him unable to move as his muscles tensed and his heartbeat quickened.

With each precious second passing, the cadre of wild hunters tightened the encirclement.

One of the wolves stood out amongst the group. It was almost twice as large as the next largest members and bore visible scars along its graying body. The alpha.

Just as he registered the presence of the anomaly, one of the beasts lunged.

Fangs baring, it launched itself at the frozen warrior and…

Everything went still.

When Caleb took notice of the attack, it felt as if time itself slowed to let him breath. An instant felt like ages as the wolf in the air ever so slowly closed the distance between them.

'Move damn it! Move!' He struggled as he battled with his instincts for control over his foreign body.

Just as the capricious flow of time quickened once again, his mind finally broke away from the icy grip of fear and moved.

With lightning speed, an armored fist struck the pouncing predator. The swing found its mark upon the wolf's torso and, with the sickening cracks of shattered bones, its body flew twice as fast in the opposite direction.

The sound of crushed bones came once again from the wretched thing as it smashed against the stump of a wind felled tree.

The many pairs of hungering amber eyes snapped towards the body, now limp and lifeless, as if expecting it to move.

It did not.

The most surprised individual out of all of them was Caleb himself. In his panic, he had forgotten that he was a max level tank in Divine class armor. Meaning that NOTHING reasonably fair could hurt him fast enough to kill him before he had a chance to retaliate. Unfortunately, sudden abandonment of logic was frequent amongst even the most intelligent of individuals when untamed instincts strike.

Thankfully, the overwhelming success of his reflexive strike brought Caleb back from his blank state of mind. As he quickly looked around to assess the situation, it seemed that the attitudes of the wolves changed.

Instead of looking at him like predators would their prey, they now stared cautiously as one of their own fell.

The circle loosened.

With his thoughts gathered, Caleb brought out his weapons. In his right hand was the Divine greatsword, Black Blood of Alucard, which was painstakingly reforged by the guild blacksmith. In his left was his Divine greatshield, Bastion of Helvegr. Both weapons fit in seamlessly with the overbearing aesthetic of his armor set, completing the image of a brutal demonic warlord.

Taking advantage of the brief respite, Caleb quietly cast his standard engagement buffs.

"[Absolute Coagulant], [Masochistic Regeneration], [Wild Regeneration], [Feast of Blood], [Greater Speed Boost], [Impetus of the Great Wall], [Indominus], [Boon of Power: Overwhelming]." With each quiet utterance, his form was briefly shrouded within a colorful glow before receding for that of the next spell. He was thankful that he always used vocal casting in the game. As his HUD was all but gone, it seemed that the **only** way to use abilities was by voice.

He softly smirked as he finished his primary buff rotation. It would have been a miracle and a half if he ever found the time to cast even three of these buffs in the heat of battle, but unlike Yggdrasil mobs, these creatures did not attack ceaselessly with reckless abandon.

Just as he finished casting his buffs, a loud, aggressive bark escaped from the maw of the alpha. The air of caution was betrayed now by one of aggression. It seemed that the sudden death of a member of the pack did not sit well with the rest of them.

In an instant, the alpha along with two other members of the pack lunged at Skarlett and, as if on cue, his perception of time slowed down once more. To him, the wolves looked as if they were jumping through an invisible wall of molasses. This time, however, he was mentally prepared.

He made his move.

 ***SPLAT*** The alpha exploded in a squall of gore as it was struck by the thick, spiked base of Skarlett's shield.

"[Schadenfreude]!" As his weapon glowed an ominous, dark hue, he swung it in a wide arc, cleaving the second beast from shoulder to stomach while completely bisecting the third.

Freed once again from the dilation of time, the split carcasses followed their initial path and smacked against Skarlett, splattering his armor with a shower of gore and offal.

The sharp smell of blood and death permeated the air, filling his nostrils with the unfamiliar scent. He should have been gagging from the stench. He should have been bent over in anticipation of vomit. He should have been shaking from the sight of bloodied and mangled corpses.

But he did not.

No, he felt something completely different well up inside of

Excitement, anticipation, and a desire that he couldn't quite identify.

After watching how easily their prey slew their own, anger escaped from the wolves' bodies while terror effortlessly took its place. If one would describe this situation with a cliché, they would say that the hunters became the hunted.

With bodies shaking and tails tucked between their legs, the decimated pack made a hasty retreat, prioritizing their lives over hunger and vengeance. Within the blink of an eye, the survivors disappeared within the thick treeline with no evidence of ever being here.

With the exception, of course, of four crushed, halved, or scrambled wolf carcasses.

While he was happy with the outcome of the battle, Caleb did not like how he initially reacted. In a battle against actually formidable foes, handing them the first strike on a silver platter was no different than committing suicide. Worst of all, he had been so distracted by the promise of greenery that he forgot to cast his longer lasting buffs in the safety of his city before recklessly teleporting out. This was inexcusable for a Yggdrasil veteran like him.

He had to practice if he wanted to temper his mind for surprises like what he had just faced. If his timekeeping was not too off, he still had over an hour before the meeting would begin.

Perhaps the large courtyard at Blackfrost citadel, the place where he would meet his guardians, would make for a good place to review his skills and rotations.

As he was about to activate his Guild Ring once again to quickly travel to the fourth floor, something pulled his attention. It was the lingering scent of blood in the air. Under normal circumstances, he would have covered his mouth or pinched his nose. Perhaps it would be accompanied by nausea as well.

However, none of the normal reactions came to him. Instead, the oozing corpses were strangely… enticing.

"What the fuck?" He shook his head with disbelief at the ghost of a thought, he forced himself away from the bodies before heading to the frozen fortress of the fourth floor.

…

There was no doubt in Caleb's mind that the fourth floor would be cold, but the sudden transition from warm and gentle to frigid and unforgiving completely took him by surprise.

After teleporting to the entrance of the courtyard of Blackfrost Citadel, Caleb found himself fighting back the urge to shiver. Oddly enough, his body quickly acclimated to the cold, removing both the discomfort and the compulsion.

Cold in Yggdrasil had simply been a mild sensation felt equally throughout the player's body, easily distinguishable from the real thing. Here however, he could feel the wind rushing past him, vainly trying to tear at his skin through the slits of his helm. The dropping temperature of his armor made it cold to the touch of his skin. Yet, as intense as the sensations were, it felt unusually easy to bear this weather. Perhaps his body initially overreacted to the chilled climate, or maybe his passives and resistances made the effects merely trivial.

In any case, he had arrived at his destination and, luckily, there weren't any idiots who thought that arriving an hour early to a meeting was a good idea.

Standing in the massive unroofed courtyard, he took in the sights. The word impressive was not enough to describe the size and grandeur of the icy castle. Everything was made from unmeltable Primordial Ice that endlessly chilled the air above it.

In hindsight, using such a rare and expensive enchanting ingredient as a bulk building material probably had not been the smartest of ideas, but what's done is done and the results justified the absurdly high cost. Somewhat…

Caleb shuddered as he remembered when he, while still the guild's treasurer, approved the build order that utterly demolished the guild's gold stockpile.

The Floor Guardian of this floor was Bjergan, a massive Fjord Giant demihuman. Being an advancement in the Frost Giant race with absolute immunities to cold damage and cold-based crowd control, he was the perfect match for this floor in both theme and synergy.

Since Bjergan ran this floor, Caleb would have to deal with him first. If he remembered correctly, the Fjord Giant was written to be a jolly man of honour. His creator, KnightyKnight, definitely seemed to be someone who would create an NPC of this nature. After all, he was an overly chivalrous idiot who was rumored to have never talked to a woman outside of Yggdrasil. If Bjergan's personality was what he expected, then he could confidently extrapolate the personalities of other Floor Guardians from their character biographies.

Caleb slowly paced deeper into the empty courtyard as he contemplated his possible approaches when confronting each guardian. Reaching the center, he took note of his surroundings. The sky was an eternally cloudy mess of swirling snowstorms while the ground was a sort of packed snow and permafrost. The weather would likely make flying combat difficult but the ground combat seemed to be fine.

In case he will be attacked, whether by the guilds NPCs or foreign enemies, he needed to be able to react quickly and without error.

'A quick review couldn't hurt.' He thought.

With a single, smooth motion he brought forth Black Blood of Alucard once again. His main weapon, which he used for just about everything from fighting trash mobs to PvP to Raids, was a Divine class weapon which underwent stat reforging. Just by being Divine this weapon was incredibly valuable and powerful. Because it was reforged, its market value quintupled as only Blacksmiths who salvaged over 1,000,000 relic class or above items gained the ability to perfectly optimize weapons. Even then, they were limited to reforging 10 pieces a day.

In many cases, it would take the collaboration of multiple guilds to get even one blacksmith to obtain that ability. It was rather lucky that Tier Raid never went through the grueling effort as their reforge-capable blacksmith had been a turncoat from a rival guild, enticed by the fact that his significant other decided to join Tier Raid instead.

The massive blade of his sword was blacker than the darkest starless night and left behind a black, ink-like trail that followed the blade whenever swung. The latter effect was not an original aspect of the weapon, as Caleb later added it by using some pricy data crystals. While the greatsword itself was meant to be used in both hands, his [Odin's Might] passive allowed him to bypass the requirement at the cost of lower damage when one-handing.

Caleb held the blade in the Posta di Donna Distra stance. That was what it was called, right? He learned this from an obsessive sword junkie who called the guild home for a year or two before being booted. His obsession with medieval weaponry and techniques was not what got him kicked out of the guild, however.

The actual reason was that he ceaselessly annoyed previous guild leaders by constantly begging them to schedule a mandatory lesson in weapon usage. Eventually, one of them simply got tired of his badgering and booted him.

Caleb himself had a taste of his insanity when was caught holding his greatsword the "wrong way" during a dungeon run. He proceeded to lecture him about the finer details of a sword swing before correcting it for him. Apparently the stance he was taught was called Posta di Donna Distra and it supposedly was really good because one could do all standard sword strikes from it or something.

While Caleb normally wouldn't take advice from someone who was likely clinically insane, the fact that the junkie was the guild's best blademaster gave his eccentricity some merit.

In fact, he was so good with the sword that he has never lost in a duel to another melee class. The way he parried, blocked, and swung was practically flawless. However he had little in terms of dealing with mages and the fact that he refused to put points into anything but passives and basic sword skills crippled his potential. What a strange guy.

Caleb brought himself back from his reminiscence and moved to assume the supposedly superior stance, readying to swing.

Caleb imagined his target, a formidable Dread Vampire, right in front of him and swung.

An uppercut.

A horizontal slash.

A vertical cut.

A huge arcing swing from shoulder to stomach.

A quick jab with the tip of the sword.

With each swing he could feel the weight of the weapon sending him just a little bit off balance.

"[Crushing Blow]!" With an overhead swing using both his hands, he caused the air around him to explode with a violent boom, sending a cloud of packed snow into the air.

It was good that everything felt so intuitive.

He continued his review, practicing more swings, skills and adding in a pirouette to one of his swings because it was beneficial to his combos. Probably.

While the sense of imbalance greatly diminished with every swing he took, it never fully went away. Perhaps it was because he did not have his shield in his other hand.

With another smooth motion, he brought out his greatshield and repeated his one handed swings, this time with a counterweight to balance his strikes. As he felt the imbalance diminish even further, he started mixing in shield strikes and blocking skills with his rotations and combos.

"[Pendulum Strike]! [Great Wall]! [Blackened Blade]! [Shadow Flare]! [Shadow Judgement]!" With each swing and block, he felt both the incredible power coming from each skill and the small drain of stamina that each skill required.

Feeling confident of his renewed proficiency he decided to combine some of his moves into a single strike.

With his shield arm on the ground and greatsword resting on his shoulder, he lowered himself in a sort of runners crouch. In his mind, he imagined himself a cat with it muscles tensed, ready to pounce on his prey.

In an instant, the power stored within his legs were explosively released, sending him flying forward at a breakneck speed. Near the end of the shallowly arcing path of his flight, he slashed his greatsword vertically with all his might. As the tip of his sword met the ground, the sound that was effused was not that of a sword hitting snow, dirt, or even ice, but of a meteor smashing against a stony mountain. This time, more sizable chunks of debris flew from where he struck, creating a crater whose center was where the sword made contact with the earth.

As he looked behind himself, he saw that he ended up at least 30 meters from where he started.

'Amazing.' He thought. Even better was that he felt no imbalance after the swing, likely due to his low center of gravity.

'Hah! I think I just invented an amazing gapcloser. Surely no one else has ever come up with something so ingenious. Right?'

As he was filled with warm smugness at his achievement, the sound of thunderous clapping suddenly filled his ears.

" **Bravo! An amazing display of skill!** " The voice boomed in a deep and bellowing timbre.

He looked behind him to find a single, massive being standing beneath a doorway leading deeper into the citadel. A stout giant. A stout Fjord Giant to be exact, geared in thick chainmail and a horned helm while wearing a thick bushy beard on his face.

'So Bjergan finally decided to greet me.'

He didn't seem to be holding a weapon, sheathed or otherwise, so it's unlikely that he is preparing for an attack.

" **My deepest apologies for coming unannounced, but I just heard from one of my Frostguard Knights that came here and I wouldn't dare be so insolent as to not welcome you!** " He said as he bowed a deep bow. Even in that posture, he was many meters taller than Skarlett.

'Frostguard Knights? Right, those were the main defenders of this floor.'

Frostguard knights were formidable level 90 defensive tanks with copious amounts of hard crowd control and healing. The second best candidates for Spider-Tanking doctrines while being the absolute best in Immortality-Through Mass-Healing doctrine. In short, they were meant to stall opposition while long range mages or archers nuke them. It would be rather problematic he were to be swarmed by them but with the TMS though…

As Bjergan started to rise from his respectful bow, Caleb mentally reviewed how to talk to subordinates. The lessons he was taught were hammered in his head from his early teens as all aspects of communication, whether connotation, denotation, or tone, were immensely significant skills to learn. Lessons such as the fact that one must be formal and attentive but never condescending, or to seldom speak in a fashion to remind others of their lower position compared to yours except in emergencies.

" **I am at your service,** " Bjergan stated as he rose from his bow. " **M'lady.** "

Caleb sneered in disgust.

"M'lady?" He replied with confusion before he could even realize the problems that tone could cause. It was simply that he had never been referred to in such a way. That and the fact that he himself was a man.

'Oh shit I did not mean to say that.' He thought as he realized his mistake

As Skarlett drew his breath in to rebuke his own outburst, Bjergan was one step ahead of him.

Bjergan suddenly had a look of fear upon his face as he realized he may have offended his Divine Lord. " **M-my apologies Sangreal-sama!** " He speedily apologized. " **I-I had never intended to speak of you with such rudeness. I b-beg of your forgiveness!** " He stumbled as he got he prostrated at Caleb's feet.

Caleb took notice of the giant's actions. Well, it would be difficult not to as, even when prostrating in front of a large Heteromorph like Skarlett, the giant was still taller than him. However, Caleb was more focused the realization of why he was referred to as 'M'lady'.

'Right… My voice. Another reason to fix this ASAP'. It didn't make sense at all though. When creating his character, there wasn't an option of either male or female as his race was gender-locked to neither. Some Hetermorphs like demons or angels was given the option of male or female according to his peers, while others like slimes did not. His race was of the latter but why would that automatically give him a generic female voice? His character did initially masquerade as a female but beneath it all was still a monstrous abomination

So he somehow had a female voice, and Bjergan had inferred his gender from his voice, which while a fair assumption, creates problems with perception and identity. In any case, It was not the giant's fault in the first place so forgiving him won't be a problem.

"It is fine Bjergan. You are forgiven. Rise." He commanded the massive man. "Tell me, what do you know of the current situation of Sanctuary?"

Rising from his prostrate position he answered. " **I… I have heard that everything outside of the city walls has… shifted. In what way I currently do not know as I have been occupied rallying forces in case any would dare take advantage of Tier Raid in its current state. What I do know is that the Floor Guardians of the surface Districts have sent scouting parties to scour the area surrounding Sanctuary and are producing reports for you, Sangreal-sama.** "

"That is good." Caleb already knew of this, but he now also knew that Bjergan did not lie to him, which raised his opinion of the Floor Guardian of this floor. This made it easier to ask him the next question.

An executive of any position should how his subordinates think of him. It was simply easier to run a company when your subordinates are working for someone they agree with. Spite, whether conscious or unconscious can manifest in decreased efficiency and, more importantly, an increased chance of deliberate damaging actions.

Of course, while straight up asking someone of their opinions usually did not yield the very good results, it was still something.

"Bjergan, I would like to ask you something important." It was best to ask one on one, without the presence of peers to influence his words. "Do not hold yourself back with your answer."

The giant's eyes lit up with surprise. " **Of course Sangreal-sama! I shall put in the greatest effort in my answer!** " He thundered with enthusiasm."

"Mhmm." He took note of Bjergan's enthusiasm while he finalized his wording of the question. "What do you think of me?"

" **A superior in every way.** " He replied nearly instantly and with conviction. " **The most powerful, intelligent, and beautiful being I have had the honor of laying my eyes upon.** "

Caleb shuddered internally as the giant said the word beautiful.

" **One who carried forth Tier Raid to glory and,** " The bearded giant stopped for a fraction of a second and, for for a mere moment, a look of sadness washed over his face. The change was brief, but long enough for Caleb to take notice. " **And the one who stayed with us to the very end.** " While his face was back to its enthusiastic expression, his voice was noticeably softer as he said that. " **Ahem.** " He cleared his throat. " **I believe you to be the greatest leader to have graced us with your presence and leadership.** "

The answer, while more zealous than he would have liked, was most certainly satisfactory. So long as he wasn't lying of course. While he had remained vague in his reasoning, the way he said everything did convey a feeling of honesty.

"I am glad to hear that you think so highly of me."

" **Who would ever say otherwise? You are the Divine Lord of Divine Lords. The one who rules over all! To describe one as great as yourself as anything less would be the same as stating blatant untruths!** "

"You are not the only one who holds this view of me?" Depending on his answer, his life would become less stressful.

" **I can say with absolute certainty that all who reside in Sanctuary holds this view of you, Sangreal-sama. If I am wrong, then I will not be for long.** " His voice lowered an octave as he finished his last sentence.

If what he said is true, then I have no need to worry about the other Floor Guardians or any NPC for that matter. At the very least Bjergan himself seemed quite dedicated and loyal.

"That is good. I appreciate your frank response, Bjergan."

Bjergan's eyes once again lit up as he heard Sangreal-sama's words. "There is no need to thank a grateful servant such as myself! It is my duty, honour, and pleasure to serve one as great as you." He bowed deeply once more.

"Yes," A new voice came from the massive gate leading into the courtyard. This one was male and a little gravelly, yet quite pleasant to the ears. "I concur."

It Skarlett wasn't mistaken, it was Regis, the Floor Guardian of the hellish lower third floor. His skin was of a dark ebony and his features fit the word sharp right on the mark. He highly ornamental plate armor, so one could assume that he was either a melee frontline character or perhaps a battlemage of sorts.

He was tall, almost two meters, but he was dwarfed by Skarlett and dwarfed even more by the massive size of Bjergan.

As he swaggered his way towards the two, Caleb tries to remember his character biography. So far Bjergan matched his bio quite well with some minor… deviations, thus he could assume that the same could be said for Regis.

Digging deep into his memory, he found pieces and scraps of Regis and his creator. While he forgot the name of Regis's creator, he knew that she was some sort of monstrous female devil that had rather, how would one put it, eccentric hobbies. Eccentric occultist hobbies to be exact.

He remembered hearing her talking about making the ultimate evil when she was writing Regis's bio, as well as something along the lines of being the perfect man. He also vaguely remembers her stalking him for a while before never seeing her come online ever again. While Caleb did not have any hard evidence, he also believed that she was a sadist of sorts.

What a creepy person…

'Well that wasn't good.' He thought. The only fragments that he could salvage from memory were 'ultimate evil' and 'perfect man'. Ultimate evil, no matter how one twisted it, was a negative trait. Perfect man, on the other hand, implied industry, honesty, and perhaps even obedience. Created with two seemingly contradictory traits, it would seem that Regis would be difficult to read and trust.

Greetings, my lord." Regis said as he kneeled. "What a glorious pleasure it is to see you here." He stated with a warm smile.

"I am surprised that you came so early." Skarlett replied.

Regis's mouth twitched upward for a split second before resuming its kind grin. "Ah yes, It looks like we still have almost an entire hour until the meeting. Nonetheless, I believed that coming any later than now to our first Floor Guardian conference would be considerably rude. One cannot be too punctual."

'I beg to differ…' Caleb felt rather uncomfortable with this man. For some reason, he felt that Regis was subtly eyeing him, judging silently or sizing him up. It did not help that Regis's body language quite excessive whenever he spoke.

As Caleb's unease grew, the distance between them shrank. It took only a short moment for the emotive demon to move uncomfortably close.

As soon as he was at arm's length, Regis unexpectedly clasped Skarlett's gauntleted right hand and... kissed it.

"Grk." An almost muted sound of surprise and revulsion escaped Skarlett's mouth. His face contorted with disgust as he fully registered what had happened.

Caleb's mind raced to calm himself before doing he could turn his internal revulsion into painful physical action.

'Just take it in stride,' he repeated in his head like a mantra, 'just take it in stride just take it in stride I can't take this in stride' He squirmed in muted anguish. 'Is this something my father ever had to deal with. Is this something any businessman had to deal with?'

He silently thanked the fact that his face was hidden under his helm, as the countenance under his mask would do little to garner him respect.

"Truly," Regis expressed breathlessly, "it is my greatest pleasure to finally meet with you, personally." his last word was inflected with an undesirably eager tone.

" **WHAT AUDACITY!** " Bjergan angrily boomed. " **How dare you violate our Divine Lord's in such a manner! Have you no shame?! Have you no shred of respect?!** "

A flood of relief came to Caleb as Bjergan retorted Regis's actions. Partly because someone else was angry for him, partly because it meant that this wasn't the a custom to the NPCs.

"Tsk tsk tsk. Dear Bjergan my friend, you haven't the understanding of courtesy like I do. While you are bound by your rigid moral," He responded in a chiding tone while motioning with his index finger, "I show my appreciation freely. Besides, the Divine Lord who molded my flesh and brewed my blood was quite close with Sangreal-sama, so it is natural that my dedication towards Sangreal-sama surpassed yours.

'Wait, did Regis mean that creepy stalker girl?' He mentioned that they had a close relationship when Caleb himself didn't even remember her name. He couldn't be purposely lying to Bjergan as Caleb himself would have known, so it was more likely that Regis was simply misinformed.

After all that has been said and done, it seemed that both Floor Guardians held positive views of Caleb, which was the most important piece of information he obtained.

There was a problem present however…

Bjergan was fuming at this point. It did not take a genius to know that he was at his limit. Teeth were being ground, his face went from pale blue to pink, and if one paid enough attention, they would notice his entire body shaking ever so slightly. And it wasn't the cold that was causing it.

If no one intervened...

"Enough! Both of you." In the most assertive voice he could muster, he de-escalated the tension between the two. Before he could even start his next sentence-

" **My deepest apologies!** "

"I am truly sorry!" Both offenders rushed to beg forgiveness.

It was almost expected at this point. They would say something Skarlett did not like. Skarlett makes his disapproval known. Everyone apologises to Skarlett. Predictable but reassuring. Few who truly hated their bosses could do so with such sincerity.

As he opened his mouth to reassure them, he soon found out that the interruptions would not end.

"Wordsss hardly make up for sso much losst face." Skarlett had been cut off before he could even speak for the second time now. This time, the perpetrator was the hissing voice of a woman. "Apologizzze with your actionss, not your wordsss."

The voice came from the bewitching serpent under the open gates.

Ash'hal, Floor Guardian of the Western Commerce District and the Sunken Caverns below it.

She was a slender lamia whose turquoise scales glimmered brilliantly even under the cloudy sky. Her upper body was that of an elf.

Her crystal-blue hair was long and flowing while her skin was light in tone and without flaw. Her clothing was minimalistic in coverage yet extravagant in color and shape. What little covered her upper body served only to accentuate her uncovered belly and cleavage.

Beside her stood her polar opposite.

A thin figure covered from head to toe with an elegant yet simple black robe. Overtop of the robe, it wore equally dark plate armor. Calling it plate armor may be inaccurate, however, as the black metal 'plates' looked paper thin. On its back were thin, wispy wings of unnatural fog while under its hood, it wore a plain and expressionless mask.

Abbadon, Floor Guardian of the heavenly upper third floor. The leader of the Seraphim Council that governed it. The Angel of Death.

As the two new arrivals walked over, Ash'hal's attention shifted to Skarlett.

Whilst bowing and wearing a captivating smile, she said to Skarlett:

"Ahh, Sssangreal-ssama, a true delight it is to see you once again."

Abbadon, who followed close behind took a bow as well, yet remained silent.

Was he the solemn type? Or did it have another meaning? No. That did not seem likely.

If what Bjergan said was true, then he had nothing to worry about in terms of internal politics. It was just personal nuances that needed to be kept in check. So far he knew of Regis's… So what did these two bring to the table?

"You may rise." Skarlett commanded. And they did.

"SSangreal-ssama, I wishh to inform you that the reportss from my Disstrict shhal arrive very ssoon."

"That is good. There are certainly merits to being ahead on schedule." In some cases… Other times however…

He took a quick glance towards Regis, who was now conversing with Bjergan.

With those words, Ash'hal's eyes twinkled as if small lights within them were suddenly lit.

"Your wordss are much too kind for one as undesserving as I, Ssangreal-ssama. I only wish to sstrive for perfection to further the glorious city of Ssanctuary." A fair and humble goal that would be if it were the complete truth. However, Ash'hal was more worried about her image in her sovereign's eyes than all else.

Soon enough, three distinct types of footsteps were heard.

Yet, even when her statements held true, the Lamia seemed… Upset? Was Skarlett simply overreading her facial expressions and body language?

Only moments later, three individuals came into view. All three were in full sprint, rushing towards Skarlett in a tight pack.

Leading the pack by a hair's length was a lithe arachnoid. Unlike most other members of its species, it's carapace was polished smooth and without thick bristles. The six legs it used to propel itself forward clacked rhythmically as they each made contact with the packed snow.

The close second was a lean snake man. No, he looked aquatic. He was a naga.

Like Ash'hal, he had a long muscular tail instead of legs but, above the waist, he was also inhuman. Unlike the Lamia, whose upper body was covered in soft, supple skin, the naga was covered from head to tail in rough green scales. Its head looked dragon-like and the reports it carried were not held by soft human hands, but by reptilian talons.

The third runner was a mighty looking undead. A Death Knight, who was trailing behind at only a slightly larger margin. The ground shook with every step it took in its relentless charge. It let loose a triumphant roar as its lordly recipient came into view.

Arriving in that order, they kneeled as swiftly as they could. Each of them, with their heads looking downwards, placed the left hands over their chests and extended their right arms, which held the reports, outward.

As Skarlett took the reports from them, his attention was drawn towards Ash'hal again, who seemed to be in a fell mood. Wearing an unusual smile, she stared at the naga, who just now started quivering from the cold.

'Odd..' He thought. But he diverted his attention to an even greater anomaly.

"Where is the courier from the Industrial District?" Skarlett asked.

A rumbling wheezing voice came from the arachnoid, who still held its kneel. "Pardon my lack of knowledge, great Swarmlord, but I have not heard any information pertaining to the whereabouts of their courier."

"You are pardoned. What about you two?"

"I am also lacking in knowledge. I beg of your forgiveness." Answered the naga.

"Rawwn". Gently groaned the Death Knight as it shook its head. It seemed that Death Knights could not talk.

"If that is so, then thank you for bringing the reports. You all may rise." With these words, all three rose, then bowed once more, before leaving for other duties.

While Ash'hal was still staring at the naga as he left, her mood seemed to worsen slightly.

Since he could not fathom why she would be in a poor mood, he convinced himself that he was just misinterpreting her expressions and started reading the first report.

From the Arachnoid runner, the report contained a plethora of information about the outside world from their scouting.

It seemed that almost everything that was even slightly significant was noted. There were several pages alone dedicated to lists of landmarks both major and minor. Another page contained a list of the species found in the forests, the number of them encountered, and their threat levels, all of which were hilariously low.

There was no mention of intelligent life.

The next pages were, once again, flooded with an excess of information. This section covered the estimated production rates of all forms and tiers of silk, as well as the location of production and any predicted changes in output within the near future. On the final page was the total production summed up into a single clean number for each type of silk. All of them were at a satisfiably high number, which meant that bandages and cloth-type armor could be still be mass produced.

While the report contained all of the requested information, the way it had been organized it made it annoyingly difficult to process.

The next one came from the naga. The calligraphy on the report, while incredibly beautiful, slowed down his reading speed.

The scouting details, while much more concise and focused, overall told the same story. Little threat. Grass and greenery. No intelligent life.

As he read the pages pertaining to food production, his spirits dragged. While production was at full output, the consumption rate made it an overall negative. Because of this, he now had to find another source of food before the larder runs dry and starts feeding directly from the treasury.

He made a mental note of this problem as he shifted attention to the third report.

The Death Knight's report, written on a strange leather parchment, once again stated the same things about the outside world.

The subsequent pages which contained potion and herb production information lifted his mood. All useful potions were being produced at maximum efficiency, with the herbs needed growing in excess. This brought upon the preferable situation where there will be a stockpile of both reagent and product.

So far, besides the food shortage, Sanctuary was stable enough to survive a perpetual embargo and field its NPC armies without problem.

Finishing the last details of the report, Skarlett heard a faint muttering coming from Ash'hal.

"Ah. Here comess the disssapointment..."

Ignoring the remark, he looked up to see a short creatures in full plate armor coming into view, escorted by two Frostguard Knights. The runner from the Industrial District. A dwarf, most likely.

It seemed that all eyes were upon the dwarf as it approached.

As knights suddenly stopped in front of Skarlett, a strange high pitched noise escaped from the courier. When the knights kneeled, the dwarf bowed and did the same.

"Ah, looks like the last report has arrived." Skarlett noted.

"Skarlett Sangreal-sama! I-I humbly present and deliver this report, sent by Dagron, Floor Guardian of the Industrial District!" The Dwarf loudly stated.

Just as he was about to thank and let the courier leave, someone, once again, cut him off before he could even start speaking.

"A wassste of your breath, little dwarf." Ash'hal rudely remarked. "How much ssslower could you posssibly be? Is this truly the bessst your disorderly district can come up with?"

This was starting to get irritating. How many times was he going to get interrupted? It really didn't matter much that the dwarf came 10 minutes after the other runners did. After all, his reports were still delivered on time.

As Skarlett opened his mouth to acquit the dwarf-

"Mhm, she has a point." Regis coolly agreed. "The other reports were delivered ages ago, what's your excuse then?"

Another interruption.

The dwarf's armor rattled as he silently trembled.

"No excuses at all?" Regis chuckled. "How pathetic."

As Skarlett was about once again attempt to give his own opinion-

" **Quiet, all of you."** Bjergan thunderously interrupted. " **No mistakes were made. The meeting hasn't even started yet."**

"What would you know about punctuality and expectationsss, you uncouth giant?"

"Mhmm, what matters is not his punctuality, but his shortfalling compared to his peers." Regis agreed.

'Huh? What kind of unreasonable idiotic logic was that? The courier actually did nothing wrong.'

The quality of the conversation started to degrade as voices rose and tones worsened. At this point, Skarlett did not care about who was in the right. All he wanted to do was the read the damn report in peace, and the only way to do so was to stop the incessant bickering.

"No." Skarlett firmly stated. "I agree with Bjergan. No harm was done by his arrival. In fact, I'm more interested in knowing why all of you came so early. The meeting doesn't start for another half-hour."

As the words left his mouth Bjergan puffed out his chest in pride while Ash'hal and Regis took on a look of nervousness and defeat. After thoroughly apologizing for their rude tone, all three went back to conversing about a less volatile topic.

'Thank god it was that easy.' he thought. From the way it was going, he wasn't completely sure if they were going to drag him into the fray. But since this is over...

"Now, let me have a look at that." Sangreal walked over and took the presented document from the shaking dwarf. "Well done, messenger. Thank you for delivering this document. Send Dagron my regards and remind him that the meeting is not until 3pm if you would."

"Yes! Of course! By your will! I humbly request to take my leave!" The dwarf loudly stated with zeal.

"Granted."

As the panicky dwarf stumbled and tripped his way out of the courtyard, Skarlett finally started the last report.

Unsurprisingly, this one as well told the same things of the outside world as the others. However, it also contained something extra.

Suggestions.

For each significant detail, there was a corresponding suggestion that describe all possible uses it could have for the benefit of Sanctuary.

For the trees, mass logging. For the wildlife, collection for consumption. For the fertile soil, farms. Nothing was overlooked. Each and every plan was appropriately outlined with their possible benefits and drawbacks. If the NPC's here were paid a salary, whoever wrote this report would have to be given a raise.

People who go above and beyond to make their boss's life easier are too rare nowadays.

The last few pages outlined the output of the Industrial District's ore mine, which was at a healthy high. From the report, it seemed that all ore types, from common to rare, appeared to be renewing themselves at expected rates. With their Geomancers enriching the mine daily, the mine had been an endless supply of raw materials for armor, weapons, and specialty potions. For as long as he had known, the mine could be endlessly renewed. If that trait disappeared, he would have had to establish a much more exposed external mining operation like other guilds.

Since there was under half an hour until the meeting begins, it was likely that the rest of the Floor Guardians would start arriving soon.

With four other Floor Guardians to keep him company, he patiently waited.

…

As the minutes ticked away, the rest of the Floor Guardians came in one by one.

The first to come was Pomono, a treant druid who governs the Sacred Forest of the second floor.

The second was a pale little girl by the name of most of her features were human, four distinctly insectoid legs were attached to her back. She was in charge of the arachnoid-populated Fabric District

Next was Calphos, the undead Overlord that commanded the Alchemy District and its undying inhabitants. He seemed to have also brought a servant with him, a rattling skeleton holding a cornet.

Soon after Calphos came the twins Rebis and Opus, who walked in perfect unison.

Lastly, came Dagron, a burly Black Draconoid that smelt of ash and metal. As the leader of the Industrial district, he held charge of the inhabitants and industries there.

Besides Dagron was Pontiff Sylvan, wearing priestly garb and an uncomfortably friendly smile.

Truth be told, Skarlett had never felt so nervous before. It was his first 'business' meeting with 'officials' that he barely knew. While all participants had supposedly unshakable trust and goodwill towards him, he could still not excise the butterflies in his stomach.

It any case, it had just hit 3pm sharp.

The meeting begins.

"Greetings. I would like welcome all of you to this conference." Everyone knelt as they heard his words. "I will try to keep this succinct as your respective floors and districts may require additional attention as the situation evolves. As all of you may know, Sanctuary has been displaced from its original location to some place completely foreign. As such, I have had orders carried out to learn about our new location and to confirm the current stability of this city."

He took another scan of the participants, who held their posture. There were no surprised faces or odd facial expressions.

"Now then, Spinneretta, what did your scouts discover about the territory outside of sanctuary. And how are the facilities within your district?"

A tiny, squeaking voice answered.

"Yahumm! I sure did sent those scouts just like you asked Sangreal-sama!" The little girl answered with childlike enthusiasm. "They found a whole bunch of stuff outside! Instead of those old boring black rocks they found trees, plants, and a whole bunch of yummy critters! Nothing looked super scary either so I'd call it a win-win!"

She took a deep breath.

"Aaaaand my district is looking really good too~! All of my little spider-friends are still working tirelessly to make the bestest silks and cloths and bandages, mhmm! Everything is made as fast as it's ever been! I'm just really realllly sorry that the reports were sooo long though. I didn't know what details you'd find super important so i just put everything in!"

The presence of a child at the meeting bothered him a little bit. He wasn't sure if he should talk to her like he would a kid or a subordinate. He had been trained to deal with people his age or much older, not someone who looked young enough to be his child.

Choosing to be cautiously respectful, he went with the latter option.

"Yes, your report provided me with important information about the both the outside world and the state of affairs in your sector. However…" He hesitated in his next words.

"Oh.. Ummm. Did Spinny do something wrong?" the tiny Floor Guardian peeped.

Damnit! Even if he wanted to treat the Floor Guardian like he would any other adult, he couldn't find the heart to tell her she that needed to trim down her overstuffed report next time. She just looked and sounded too much like an innocent little child.

Until he learns that her true personality is not so fragile as what he currently believed, he will play nice.

"Mmmh, no." Skarlett replied. "I had no issues with your reports. I was simply thinking of an irrelevant topic."

"Yaaaaay!" She clapped her little hands in joy. Right now, she just seemed like a child whose smile and innocence needed to be protected. Even if she had spider legs protruding from her back.

While it would not surprise him in the slightest if Spinneretta had a much more sinister side to her, he would rather rejudge her later than take the risk of making an endearing little girl cry.

Ugh, on to the next report.

"Since all reports had nearly identical information concerning the Sanctuary's new surroundings, speakers need only to provide district related informations along with any concerns and suggestions. Calphos, you are next."

The voice that answered was raspy and breathy.

"Yes Sangreal-sama. The state of the Alchemy District is satisfactory. Herbs are being collected at standard rates and potions are being brewed at normal speeds. While we are constantly improving our methods for both processes, we have yet to find a great breakthrough. For that, I apologize on behalf of my district."

"There is no need, Calphos. Working to the best of your capabilities is all I ask of anyone. Innovations are to be appreciated, not demanded."

"Ah, your Lordship's words are much too kind of a humble servant like myself. However, I also bring favorable news as well. Our district's standing army can now grow at an unprecedented rate due to a strange anomaly. Our Crypt Lords and Master Necromancers report that they could summon more minions while at their maximum capacity. The new minions are said to be under complete control without the older minions being negatively affected in any observable way. I ask of your permission to expand our district's forces."

"An ever-growing army that does not require food upkeep to maintain? Only an idiot would oppose this idea.'

"Of course. You are granted permission to expand the Alchemy's districts military power. Do you have anything else to report? Perhaps concerns and need-to-know information?"

"Yes, my Lord." The Overlord replied. "I have taken the initiative to order my subordinate Carcinos to commence covert deep reconnaissance and sample collection. She will head out shortly with a cadre of her Abyssal Eaters."

'Carcinos? Who was that again?' In any case, having subordinates who think for themselves is quite nice, and this operation doesn't seem to be problematic so long as it doesn't catastrophically fail.

"That is good. Anything else Calphos?"

"All that I wish to say has been said. Thank you for granting me the honour of speaking."

"Thank you. Dagron, what of your district?"

" _ **Yes Sangreal-sama.**_ " Dagron's voice was guttural, as one would expect a Draconoid's to be. " _ **My District is currently forging as many sets of armor and weapons as we are capable. The ore mine is producing typical yields and are still responsive to the enrichment spells of my geomancers. I expect no instability in the near and far future.**_ "

"That is good. Is there anything else that all of us need to know?"

" _ **Yes milord. If it is at all appropriate, I wish coordinate with all other Floor Guardians on the distribution of produced weaponry and armor. While all Floor Guardians themselves have matchless artefacts given by their creators, their lower subordinates are still using their base equipment. I believe that, whilst stockpiling, distribution of enhanced weaponry and armor will greatly increase Sanctuary's combat effectiveness without any external costs.**_ "

As expected of him.

"Thank you for your suggestion Dagron. Like the others you have made in your reports, this on is intriguing and could have many potential benefits to Tier Raid."

" _ **Thank you milord.**_ "

"In any case, since this concerns all floor guardians with a standing army, what are your opinions on this matter?"

"Your choice is the bestest choice~!" Spinneretta cheeped.

" **Your wisdom I shall follow.** " Bjergan boomed.

"I do not disssagree with the idea." Chimed Ash'hal.

"My opinion follows yours oh Great One." Said Pontiff Sylvan with a smile.

"I must concur with the good Pontiff." Regis agreed.

"Your knowledge has no bounds while mine is still limited. I value your wisdom over my own." Calphos politely stated.

Abbadon gave a small shrug.

'So in short, I don't give a damn so it's all up to you. Those answers were so amazing that I almost want to hurt myself.' To be honest, he wasn't sure if they did that because they actually valued his choice or that they wanted to spite him if he made the wrong one.

'Goddamnit, then I'll just make my the choice myself.' He was annoyed, but also relieved that there was no opposition for the good suggestion.

"Then, if there is no opposition, I grant permission to Dagron to organize the distribution of arms and armor."

"By your will." The guardians said in unison.

"Now, finally, the last report. Ash'hal, it is your turn to speak."

"Ah yess Ssangreal-ssama. Cossmetic conssumables as well as vanity items are sstill in normal production. All edible food and food productss are being producced as quickly asss posssible. However, the conssumption rate iss still greater than our production rate, which will lead to unfortunate problemss… For that I apologisse for my shortcomings."

"There is no need for apologies Ash'hal. What we do need is a solution. Does anyone have an idea?"

"This one does, my lord." The deep groaning answer was accompanied by wooden creaks and cracks. It was Pomono, the Treant Floor Guardian of the second floor's Sacred Forest.

"Beautiful nature,

A simple bounty for all,

We, the green, shall help." Pomono stated with a grainy voice

'Wha-... Was that a haiku?'

"Erhm, yes. Could you elaborate for us?"

"Yes my lord. The forest this one nursed is a potential cornucopia for Sanctuary. It is already growing food, but many of the trees can be nurtured to bear greater yields. Much of the grasslands is unused. Druids of the Sacred Forest are happy to sow upon it crops for their master."

"Will the addition of your floor be enough to nullify the drain?"

"The result is unknown to this one, my lord. I apologize."

"It is not your fault, Pomono. Any helpful course of action is appreciated. If you would, inform me if the addition of your forest is enough to put our food production back into the positives as soon as possible."

"That, I shall do, my lord." He croaked.

"Good. All districts have given their reports and all problems brought up have been addressed. Are there any other notable issues that needs to be made known?"

The courtyard was silent.

"Then I will concl-. Wait. Actually, there is an announcement that I would like to make."

All ears became focused on him.

"I, ahem, If you wish to refer to me or address me with a pronoun, whatever the ones you currently use, I request that you use male ones… That is all."

The courtyard is still in silence.

To Skarlett, that felt monumentally embarrassing to say, for some reason. Even if he knew for a fact that he was, and is still, a man, saying something like this to his subordinates did not seem like a good idea. However, removal of misconceptions in still very important for a leader to do.

'Even if the misconception was… this. Right?'

"I-in any case. I will require periodic updates from all districts on the status of their production and armies. All districts will coordinate additional scouting efforts immediately to obtain new information. For now, I require all standing military personnel to be put on high alert until more information comes in and outer perimeters have been secured. I wish all of you luck in your endeavors."

With his last words, he raised his right arm and activated his guild ring, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

The courtyard was still silent, still enthralled by the presence of their infalliable Guild Leader.

The first to break the silence was the Treant, Pomono.

"This one is in awe at the greatness of the Master."

The second was Pontiff Sylvan.

"It is only natural." He said with a smirk. "Our greatest god always exudes such magnificence."

Abbadon nodded in agreement while Dagron gave a concurring grunt.

"There isss no other like he-im." Ash'hal said while glancing towards Spinneretta.

"I feel the same." Stated Rebis and Opus in unison.

" **Truly an honor of mine to be in Sangreal-sama's presence.** " Bjergan thundered

"Her-... His Majesty never fails to makes my heart pound with excitement." Regis sensually remarked.

"Yahum! Everybody's heart goes doki doki for Sangreal-sama right?"

Ash'hal stared hatefully at the excited little girl. The child with spider legs on her back had medium length, golden blond hair with round, crystal blue, eyes. Hey skin was a shade paler than what would be considered normal, but it fit perfectly with doll-like features and pink lolita dress.

"Oi oba-san, are you just a little jelly that little Spinny got first, hmmm?" The precious little girl's tone took a sharp turn. Gone was the happy-go-lucky voice of the cheerful girl as her words carried cruel, mocking temperament. "How P-A pathetic of you to disappoint Sangreal-sama. Your worthless district can't even do it's job right teehee." Her joyful smile became a contemptuous sneer.

While the other guardians did not think much of the remarks, choosing to focus on their own discussions, Ash'hal knew perfectly what that brat meant. No one knew her perfectionistic tendencies better than that runt, and no one ever exploited Ash'hal for it except for her.

"Why don't you pranccce back to your fesstering cobwebss before you hurt yoursself."

"Hiss thishh hithss that, it's oh so difficult to understand you in that weird lisp you got oba-san. But I hear something about hurt feewings." The devil in the form of a little girl giggled. "Buuuuut, I do have matters to attend to. So, toodaloo oba-san. Hopefully your district won't disappoint Sangreal-sama again." She mockingly blew a kiss towards the Lamia before she turned around and skipped away.

As irritating as that pest can be, it had a point. She prided herself in being the best. Always the first to get the job done, and always getting it done flawlessly. But today had not been her day. Her runner, who will be thoroughly punished, had lost to a shaved spider wench. Her district, even at its best, could not meet the hungering demands of Sanctuary's denizens.

Was she just a disappointment? Like that pitiful little dwarf earlier?

No, she was better than that. She would learn to excel in her duties, she will be Sangreal-sama's golden child who can do no wrong.

To achieve that, she must improve her district.

"I shall take my leave as well. I'll be seeing to improving the food production of my district further now."

With that, she slithered away from the group of guardians, who are still talking amongst themselves.

Dagron looked to the twins, who were standing there simply listening to the guardians. The twins, who picked up on the Draconoid's discomfort, made an announcement.

"To all who wish to leave, may leave without consequence. Opus and I shall organize and distribute orders to each guardian later today."

Dagron breathed a sigh of relief and marched his way out. While in the presence of Sangreal-sama his heart and soul was always calm. Without his glorious presence, however, he could not handle himself among crowds of peers.

Dagron was not a people's person. He would much rather heat and hammer metal than talk of grand keikaku.

"Ahem." A voice that had never been heard before made itself known. This one was deep and echoing. To someone's ears it would seem that the voice came from now one source, but from everything around them.

The one who spoke was the masked Angel of Death, Abbadon.

"I, erm, sorry." The hesitant words did not fit at all with his imposing looks and voice. "Is anyone else a bit bothered by, um, one of Sangreal-sama's final statements? The, er, one about referring to he- ehm, him as a man…"

"Now, why would that be bothersome dear Abbadon?" Pontiff Sylvan replied. " Does it truly matter how we speak of our master, so long it is in a respectful way?"

"N-no, but that is not what I, eh, meant Pontiff Sylvan-san. But doesn't that mean that, well, Sangreal-sama no longer has interest in men?"

Regis snapped his head towards the angel of death in with shock.

Abbadon, spooked by his colleagues sudden movement, flinched.

"Woah woah woah where did you get the idea that Sangreal-sama would have no interest in us? Don't scare me with words like that. And don't worry if you think that you won't get Sangreal-sama's loving kindness. I mean, there is no way sh- he doesn't love me. I can already see the flames of passion in his eyes." Regis reassured the death seraphim.

"Regis is correct." Pontiff Sylvan added. "But not for that reason. Sangreal-sama is a god, and thus is all loving. We are all loved equally."

"Wrong type of love, buddy. But you could say it like that."

"Mmmh. In any case, I must rouse my Archdeacons into action and organize my Cathedral Knights. I shall take my leave."

"Oh, uhm, me too… I must inform the rest of the Seraphim Council on these developments and prepare for my next tasks."

Rebis and Opus, noticing the diminishing crowd, also spoke up.

"We shall go back to our office and prepare new order. Please excuse us." The twins bowed before heading to the lowest floor of Sanctuary."

After conversing, Pomono and Calphos, along with his attendant, left soon after the twins.

All that is left is Bjergan, Regis, and the howling winds.

However, Regis too was readying to leave until-

" **Hold yourself, good sir. I wish to speak to you on a sensitive matter.** "

"Yes?" Regis held a wry grin.

" **Before you go on to embarrass yourself, know that our Lord is not one to be trifled with. Keep your little games away from he-im. Sangreal-sama is not a wild beast for you to tame.** "

"Wild beast to tame? Oh heavens no!" Regis feigned mock shock. "I seek not to 'tame a beast' as you say. It is quite different my friend! Let me put it into perspective. While you are simply satisfied with gazing the legendary beast from afar, I prefer to have the chance to ride the great beast. But to tame it? Never. Does that bring calm to your big flustered heart now?" He mocked

' **Damn you!** ' Bjergan thought, but kept it within himself

" **Just stick to your succubi whores. Are you so dense as to not understand the masterful way Sangreal-sama intended to solve this problem?** "

"Oh? What did I miss? I'm sure that I would have picked up anything that you would, and then some."

" **Sangreal-sama, Instead of calling you out and punishing you for such insolence as rubbing your lips over her, urn, HIS hands, sh-he announced himself to be treated as man. A subtle action that you most certainly** **should** **have picked up on but you were too enraptured to notice. It was all to avoid your rash advances. Do not squander our Lord's kindness.** " Bjergan said with a cold stare.

"Tsk." Regis stared back. Bjergan was right. How could he have been so blind to the subtleties of such an ingenious and benevolent plan.

He should apologize to sangreal-sama for his insolence.

"Fine then. I will concede for now. I have my own duties to attend to. So do you. I will take my leave." Of course, he would not give up on his interest. He needed only to repair and rekindle. "Perhaps a bouquet of Lavablooms…" Regis's voice was slowly drowned out by the snowstorms as the distance between him and the giant grew.

'I am doing what's best for him'. Bjergan thought to himself. 'Praise be that the last remaining Lord of Tier Raid was one of truly kind heart.

…

'Well… That was an interesting first meeting.'

Caleb wasn't sure if he did will or not, but he was, if anything, relieved that it was over. He got a taste of some of his Guardian's personalities. A little bit too much from some of them too…

Some seemed trustworthy from the very beginning. Most of them were extremely eccentric, but that may work in his favor… Maybe.

Sitting on his bed, he saw a box on a table that wasn't there before.

His special items have arrived.

'Let's hope the Siren Leeches I requested from the Sunken Caverns work.' As soon as the thought crossed him, a pang of hunger struck him.

It was a strange time to eat; Too early for dinner but too late for lunch. But it shouldn't be a problem for him.

He went to the Guild Dining hall on the same level. As he opened the door, he was greeted by a flock of well dressed butlers and beautiful maids.

"Welcome, Sangreal-sama!" They announced. "Please, let us serve you!"

The dining hall itself was as extravagantly beautiful as the rest of this floor. Everything was brightly lit and the gold and jeweled surfaces shined and sparkled, creating a dazzling visual symphony. As massive and expansive as it was, it was also very empty. All of its tables were unseated, and the butlers and maids only took up a tiny portion of the vast area.

He made his way to and sat down at the center table, which is where he would usually sit.

A butler and a maid immediately moved to attend to him. These ones were different, however.

The butler, unlike his peers, wore a monocle. His suit was a step above the others in craftsmanship. His lean build only made him even more striking in his outfit. He had black medium-length, hair, which was gelled to hold a normally unfeasible yet attractive hairstyle.

The maid, had extremely long navy blue hair, which was tied in two waist-length braids. She wore simply glasses and held a neutral expression. Her maid dress, unlike the others, was bell shaped and had much more detailed embroideries on it.

"Welcome, Sangreal-sama." They said simultaneously.

"I am Sinclair, the head butler of this establishment." He smiled devilishly. "My butlers and I shall do our best to please you."

"I am Angela, the head maid of this establishment." She said, wearing the same neutral expression. "My maids will outdo this butler and his lackeys tenfold in satisfying you."

"Oh you, your little angels can't possibly match my butlers' speed."

"And your little demons can't possibly match my maids' precision."

"Au contraire." Sinclair gave a toothy grin.

"Au contraire." Angela held a slightly more focused, yet still blank, face.

"Okay then, Angela, Sinclair, what's on the menu?" Skarlett finally found a moment to interject.

"Oh yes, you shall only find the greatest, and I mean, greatest foods. A sinful pleasure if I may add."

"Yes, we may finally agree on something. Whatever you choose, we shall make sure it tastes absolutely heavenly."

"Yes… But what's actually on the menu?"

"Ah, how rude of us!" Sinclair remarked. "Appetizers: Seared Fire Dragon steak and cheese croquettes, roasted Etheran grapes on marquise-grade biscuits, an Edenleaf salad with ambrosia-based vinaigrette,"

"Creme de mandrake, a traditional Auðumblan cheese platter, as well as-"

The list went on and on as Sinclair and Angela fought back and forth for the right to read the menu. When Skarlett finally found a break in the endless choices, he interrupted the duo.

"Thank you for these choices, what about the main courses?"

"Ah, the pièce de résistance." Angela continued. "There is the choice of Dragon steak, Charbroiled kraken in a velouté sauce, a traditional Muspelheim omelette and-"

"A Jotunheim-style ratatouille sprinkled with Flutterbloom confit, Frost Dragon veal with greens, a-"

Once again it droned endlessly, back and forth. Once again, Skarlett had to interrupt them.

"Okay then, thank you for these wonderful choices. Instead of reading me the dessert menu, why don't you two each bring a dish that you think would suit me best?"

"Of course!"

"As you wish."

"And for the appetizer and main course…" He hadn't remembered a bit of what Sinclair and Angela said. The ceaseless listing just flew over his head. "Just do the same…"

"Hmmm, if that is so, then we shall carry out your will."

With vigor, they walked into the kitchen.

Scouring his mind, he found several details about Sinclair and Angela. They had both been created by the same person. A self-proclaimed butler and maid aficionado. He remembered him mentioning something about them being based on centuries old traditional japanese cartoons. While he was never into that stuff, he could certainly see why others enjoyed the media from a bygone era.

If he had remembered correctly, one of them was based on a butler from a show set in a fantasy ancient Victorian era while the other one was based on a battle-maid in the information age. He hadn't a clue on which one was based on what show.

Barely a minute later, a flood of maids and butlers poured into the dining hall. Each carried a plate of exquisite food in their hands.

As each put their dish on the table, Skarlett slowly realized that the massive table was going to overflow if the food did not stop coming.

This was most certainly more than 6 dishes.

On cue, Sinclair came back from the kitchen with a smile while Angela held a softer, more satisfied, blank face.

"Oh, our apologies Sangreal-sama. We tried our best to carry out your will, but our cooks are much too zealous in their task. Each of them wished to prove their worth and each of them cooked a dish for you. Our deepest apologies." They said as they bowed.

"It…. is fine." More choice is good but they were in a middle of a food shortage. This extravagance seemed uncalled for. But he wasn't going to chastise someone for being kind and accommodating towards him. Perhaps next time he comes here he will give a strict order to NOT send him hundreds of dishes all at once. "However, my stomach is not endless. Please make sure that the dishes I did not touch are eaten by other. It is shameful to waste so much food."

"B-but Sangreal-sama." Angela said, finally showing a little emotion upon her face. "This is made from ingredients reserved for the consumption of Divine Lords only."

"It does not matter. We are currently in a food shortage. It would actually quite good if I can delay Sanctuary from feeling its effects if I use supplies from the guild member exclusive larder."

"You are so kind, Sangreal-sama." Angela remarked.

"Yes, the most benevolent of beings." Sinclair agreed.

When the smell of the various dishes finally reached him, he had to stop himself from drooling at how mouthwatering the mingling fragrances were.

He picked up his cutlery and acquired a piece of the closes dish. Slowly and methodically he took a bite. He was being watched, so etiquette meant everything.

As his teeth sank into a soft, juicy piece of meat, he had to stop himself from convulsing in delight.

'Holy shit! This tastes absolutely amazing.' It took all his willpower from taking the entire plate and tilting it so that all of its contents would slide into his mouth.

"How do you find this dish, Sangreal-sama?" Sinclair asked.

'THIS DISH IS GODDAMN AMAZING!' He wanted to scream.

"It's exceptional." He said, trying his best to suppress his unabated excitement.

While the dish looked exactly like the luxury foods he would usually eat, the flavor and texture was on a completely different level. Not even the richest family in the world could get their hands on something this good.

In the era where he lived, almost nothing was repeatedly processed and treated. The most natural meat someone would ever consume was vat-grown kobe beef, and even that did not hold a faint candle to what was in his mouth.

He took a bite from another dish. Another orgasmic burst of flavor flooded his senses.

'Oh my god the way the vegetables crunch in my mouth. I'm in heaven.'

The experience didn't stop. Every bite was a different experience. He had restrained himself to just 10 plates of glorious food, leaving every single one of them spotless. By the end of it, he felt more full than he had ever felt.

And yet, he felt hungry. It was a different hunger. He wanted to eat more of the food yet he couldn't stomach another bite. Yet the hunger gnawed at him.

After he finished his meal, he thanked Sinclair and Angela and their 100 butlers and maids, and excused himself.

…

The guild bathhouse was, like the rest of the fifth and final floor, opulent and imperial. Centered within the gilded and splendorous walls was a massive pool of hot, steamy water. Centered within the pool, was a being.

A homunculus of sorts.

Skarlett sat in the steamy waters, letting his body relax and his mind to wander.

After all, he deserved it.

Some time passed. How long?

He did not care for he was in a blissful state of tranquility.

Raising his right arm from the soothing waters, Skarlett stared intently at a part of his 'new' self.

His arms were large. Much thicker and longer than what he was used to seeing. More unnerving, however, was the unnatural flawlessness of his skin.

As he had known it, no one, no matter how affluent, could wholly avoid the degrading touch of the air itself. Even twice filtered within the marble walls of their homes, the taint of pollution still slowly ate away at their skin.

The vainer members of society would undergo frequent cosmetic surgeries to temporarily reverse the effects, but the process was expensive and yielded weak results.

And yet, here he was, sitting in water purer than the purest he has ever seen outside of Yggdrasil, with a body more powerful and defectless than anything modern cybernetics can achieve.

He felt a faint squirming underneath his skin. He ignored the odd sensation.

His life had certainly been better than most others', but even that paled in comparison to what he had now.

If he had the choice, would he stay in this paradise forever?

"What a stupid question." He muttered.

'Who wouldn't?' Would have been better.

He submerged himself further within the pool.

He didn't want to stop relaxing, but he still had duties to attend to.

It was probably late in the evening, meaning that Lapis was waiting for his call.

'I could just call him while relaxing.'

A perfect idea. He had already told the sentries guarding the entrance to not let anyone disturb him. And he knew for a fact that this location was one that was strictly off limits to all non-guild members without invitation.

'Alright then, [Message Lapis Lazuras].' He silently cast.

A mere five seconds passed before he heard the resounding click of someone accepting the call.

* * *

Notes: Finals are over and I'm finally back writing! Sorry for the wait. Once again, I would love to know how anyone feels about this fic so far. Is it good? Is it bad? What should I stick to? What should I improve? All of these are questions I have for myself. One thing I will note is that the story will start ramping up soon enough.

Oh, and I also updated the cover paragraph so it sounds less terrible.

Edit: Fixed an inconsistency.


	7. Ch 4: Just Another Calm

"Gone was the innocence of man when he cast away his faith for the true gods,

It was he, weak willed and full of folly, who marched himself and those he had loved towards damnation,

Gone was the faint smirk of man when he realized the error of his ways,

It was he, pitiful and damned, who begged for mercy for himself and his closest,

Gone was the tears of man when he realized that his transgressions could not be forgiven,

It was he, lost and forsaken, whose eyes had no more tears to cry as he faced his end,

All suffering, all woes, all terrors, comes not from the foe at the front,

No, it is not the blade of infidels that kills a man of faith, but his own doubts,

Doubt not your Divine Lords, those who shall be our providence,

For our true gods shall deliver us to our eternal salvation."

* * *

Chapter 4: Just Another Calm…

Night fell upon the city, casting a dark shadow across the landscape. While the gloom of dusk blanketed the streets, mana-fueled street lamps ignite while orange candlelight continued to seep from the cracks of wooden window shutters.

One such glow came from the bathing room of a residence belonging to a short statured blacksmith. Inside the room was an elven man sitting in a clearly undersized bathtub. Yet, instead of being annoyed by the irregularity, the elf looked to be in a state of bliss.

'A hot bath has never felt so good.' Thought Lapis Lazuras. While it was almost laughable that a wealthy man like himself could enjoy himself within a crude cast iron tub, certain conditions made this a completely unique experience.

"Haaaaah." He audibly exhaled.

The water itself was as pure as crystal. It had no cloying smell of rich perfumes that tried futilely to hide the even more pungent odor of chemically purified water.

His surroundings also made it much easier to relax. While the shining, glazed walls of marble and enameled tubs of his home were certainly beautiful, something about the brick walls and the wooden floor gave this place a soothingly rustic quality to it. Like a resort made to look old-fashioned to appeal to a certain group of people.

It also helped that he had just finished what amounted to the best meal he had ever eaten. It was a hearty dinner of toasted bread and a thick stew, filled to the brim with roughly cut chunks of meat. It looked rather unappealing, but the smell made his mouth water and the taste blew his mind.

Never before has he tasted meat so savory, soup so rich with wondrous flavors, or toast so scrumptious. In fact, every single one of these simple dishes had completely outdone any similar foods he has had before. It seemed like the dwarf knew the stove as well as he knew the forge.

The toast had especially blown his mind. Several pieces of reheated bread combined with a glorious mix of jellied fruits, while strange to eat in the evening, made for a wonderfully filling item. The way each bite crunched gave it a wonderful mouthfeel while the sweet and tart jam bursted with flavor. It took only a singular bite for Lapis to lose all respect for his supposedly world renowned chef that had often prepared his meals.

If even the luxury foods he had partaken couldn't hold a candle to this, then the food of the working class would be even more pitiful by comparison.

After all, some of them even ate that horrific meat paste mass-produced by 'Bisome Meats Co.', an untrustworthy corporation that excelled only at producing as cheaply as possible.

"Yeuh." An audible sound of disgust escaped his mouth as he imagined the semi-liquid protein. What little sympathy he had left went towards the poor sods that toiled endlessly in stuffy factories and cramped cubicles.

It was no wonder that Yggdrasil was so popular. It was more than a game. It was a medium that carried people away from their dreary, mundane lives to a fantastical world where not everything was terrible.

If given the choice, most people would rather live the rest of their lives in Yggdrasil than go back to their reality.

Would he do the same?

'Perhaps.' He thought.

He sunk himself deeper in the soothing waters. Now was not the time for these kinds of questions. Now was for pure, uninhibited relaxation.

That was the intent, at least. And relaxation would have been attained if there hadn't been a vague gnawing feeling at the back of his mind.

Something was bothering him, and it pissed him off that he couldn't quite place what.

'Damn it, and I was getting so comfortable too.'

Unable to relax, he scoured his memories to find the source of his unease.

Was it that strange old priest, wearing that gaudy robe? As terrible as the geezer's sense of fashion was, Lapis was not someone who could be bothered by another's attire, unlike a certain other individual.

Was it the girl with the fat man on the carriage? It could just be a young lady with her father out on a trip to the city. It could be a courtesan out with an older client. At worst, it could be an underaged girl forced into slavery and servitude to a deviant, rich, old man. But none of these really bothered him. The first possibility was completely normal while the second was an accepted practice. The third was clearly both illegal and immoral, but things such as this had become so commonplace in society today that the prolonged exposure made him almost completely numb to the inhumane treatment of others.

There were many times where he shadowed under "advisors" for some of the less than paragon higher ups of companies. From countless exposures, it was at no one's surprise that his empathy had quickly left him. It was only a matter of time before his sympathy left with it.

So what was it that bothered him?

Perhaps it was the way he brutally slaughtered those thugs.

No… He's certainly seen this kind of violence before. It had come from part of the training that was molding him into the perfect aide. And besides the paltry experience from reality, he had also killed many times before in Yggdrasil.

Neither seeing open wounds nor blood would affect him either as Yggdrasil, for a teen rated game, was quite gratuitous in how it portrayed bleed status effects.

An unpleasant thought suddenly found its way into his mind.

Was it because the man blood was so warm?

Was that what bothered him?

No.

It was the eyes.

The eyes that begged for life as he reflexively split open the thug's neck with a smooth left to right motion.

That's right. Faces in Yggdrasil were as lifeless as the dolls found in a little girl's room. This one was not. It showed emotion. Amusement, anger, confusion, then fear. He remembered seeing the man's face cycle through these common emotions as the encounter took place.

Did he actually kill those people? He couldn't remove these possibilities from his head.

His eyes… His eyes… He couldn't stop remembering the dead man's pleading eyes.

A loud ringing sounded in his head, startling him and snapping him from the distressing thoughts.

"Gah! Shit." The sound made him flinch in his tub, splashing hot water onto the wooden floor.

After taking a moment to calm himself, he realized that the ringing was a [Message] request.

He picked up the call.

"Hey Lapis." A woman's voice addressed him with familiarity.

"Nice timing as always, Skar. I'm glad you decided not to use your other voice. I'd rather not experience a second heart attack in such a short span of time."

"A second heart att- What?" Skarlett replied in a confused tone.

"Neeeevermind that. I'm guessing you're calling to brief me on the need-to-knows and hand out a couple of tasks?"

"You've read me like a book, friend." The voice said amusingly. "By the way. Before I start, I need to know if you're in a discreet location. Where are you exactly?"

"In the bathtub."

"In the bathtub? What part of 'stay low' didn't you get?" Skarlett's voice was inflected with annoyance.

"Don't worry about it." He said casually. "Trust me. I've 'stayed low' and I'll have you know that my location is very discreet. I've already covered the house in anti-information spell wards."

"House? How did you get a-." Skarlett paused momentarily. "I'll need a very thorough explanation from you after this."

"Yeah yeah, I know the drill, man. At least I can soak in this warm water while you ramble.

"Okay so... Wait, are you taking a bath?"

"No shit sherlock, why else would I be in a bathtub?"

"... Hahaha." He chuckled after a pause. "What a coincidence."

…

Within Sanctuary, there was a vast, sprawling undercity hidden just below the Alchemy District. Its decaying, labyrinthine streets interwove, spread apart, and rejoined like capillaries in a corpse.

And yet, there was order in this chaos. Vast legions of risen warriors patrolled these paths in a juxtaposingly methodical fashion. Peddlers and hucksters conglomerated within the wider tunnels, promulgating their wares from stalls of decaying wood. Inside alcoves and cul de sacs, withered necromancers huddled neatly in ritual circles around vast swathes of flesh, bone, and sinew, chanting their infernal incantations to bring life back in a much more damnable form.

Their Overlord, sitting in a marginally more luxurious office at the heart of the festering burg, had just arrived back from his duties. It had been a tiring day, though an undead like himself would never truly understand the feeling of fatigue. However, the fact that his tasks served Sangreal-sama's goals brought joy to his work.

He looked behind him to make sure his friend was behind him.

It was.

His skeletal attendant always followed close by wherever he went, though it would sometimes get lost if his pace was too quick.

As they entered the room, they saw their two Death Lords standing guard at the back wall, holding their eternal vigil.

Calphos sat down upon his seat behind the desk, which was filled to the brim with blank parchments of human leathers and vials of ink distilled from the blood of various creatures. His attendant sat down on a simple stool beside the door.

A squeaky squawk came from his attendant's cornet, which was now placed upon its lipless teeth.

"Ah, I appreciate the gesture, Mister Skehlatol, but I cannot enjoy your compositions whilst working."

Another, noticeably sadder sounding, doot came from the rattling skeleton's instrument.

"Please don't be sad, my friend, I will most assuredly listen to your wondrous pieces after my tasks."

Several high pitched notes replied at rapid succession, signaling the end of his companion's fleeting melancholy.

"Yes, I promise you that much at least. Now, back to the task at hand..."

Calphos had Sangreal-sama's permission to produce great legions in service to Sanctuary and Tier Raid.

Raising them would not be a problem. Massive tomb complexes dotted the undercity, endlessly exhuming untold numbers of corpses to fuel their summoning rituals. What limited his prospects were, rather, the number of beings capable of raising significant undead combatants.

It was truly unfortunate that his district could not churn out powerful undead of all kinds. He had to pick and choose the ones that would offer Sanctuary the most benefit.

Within his eye sockets, lights of fetid green glowed intensely as he ruminates.

The first thing that came to his mind were Death Lords.

These abominable creatures were essentially the next step in the evolution of Death Knights. Instead of being a level 35 warrior that could be summoned by a mere [Create Mid-Tier Undead], these metal-clad goliaths were a fortuitous level 75 and could only be created with [Create High-Tier Undead] or complex rituals requiring multiple weaker summoners. Additionally, instead of being able to bear at the very least two attacks of any power, Death Lords were capable of limiting the damage of any single strike to 10% of their max health.

'Quite a useful passive.' Calphos thought.

He glanced at his towering guardians, who held their alert posture. Their dark, plate armor covered the entirety of their bodies, unlike the sets their weaker brethren donned. One could not even tell that they were undead using eyes alone, but the aura they diffused divulged their twisted nature.

The massive, armored champions of monstrous size had intrinsic merit. They were unparalleled defensive creatures, capable of withstanding blows from even the highest level invaders. While their offensive capabilities were closer that of someone who was level 60, their intended purpose was not to destroy.

Their most important role, of course, was being part of his Divine Lords' ultimate doctrines, such as the Spider-Tank formation. Capable of simple spells and abilities that utilized negative energy, Death Lords were meant to slowly chip away at their adversaries while healing their undead allies. In a legion, rows of Death Lords casting [Negative Burst]s and [Death Wave]s, spells which both harmed their enemies and healed themselves, made for a nigh unstoppable formation.

But what of more aggressive combatants? After all, the duty of obliterating foes was given to more offensive undead, such as Blackfire Arbalists, Revenant Archer Elites, Damned Archmagi, and etcetera.

There was much to consider.

…

The recounts and explanations from both sides took some time, but because there had been no interruptions from either participant, it didn't take egregiously long.

However… Now was the time for questions, and both of them had a lot to ask.

"Sooo..." Skarlett dragged his voice, as if he was still processing Lapis's story. "You wake up in a forest after the servers shut down,"

"Mhmm." Lapis confirmed.

"Walked for hours until seeing a city which you then entered,"

"Yup."

"Took took a casual stroll through the city,"

"And then you called me."

"Which led you to being attacked by thugs,"

"Mhm."

"Who you killed."

"Because I wasn't sure if they overheard our conversation."

"Then found a dwarf who told you the city hates everything except humans, who then took you in."

"Correcto."

"And after eating a delicious dinner, you're now soaking in an undersized bathtub until I oh so rudely interrupted your bubble bath."

"And here we are, both sitting in bathtubs, talking to each other after such a long, hard day. Reminds me of when we were still basic trainees."

"Don't remind me of those dark times."

From the conversation, Skarlett had learned that Lapis was in a city known as Vacatina, situated in the eastern side of a country known as the Slane Theocracy. The Slane Theocracy was a human-centric place that shunned most non-humans, including elves and dwarves.

In other words, they were a bunch of racists.

The Theocracy was bordered in the north by two other human kingdoms, the Re-Estize Kingdom and the Baharuth Empire, both of which were more lax on their treatment of abhumans. There was also the Roble Holy Kingdom west of the kingdom of Re-Estize, but Lapis had little information regarding that except for the fact that there was a massive wall along its border.

According to the Lapis's new dwarf friend, these were the only known human kingdoms, as all surrounding countries were run by either a mix of non-human species such as Beast-men or Orcs.

"Well then, do you really think you can trust the dwarf?"

"Probably. But if he ever tries to turn me over, I can just hack and slash my way through the city. Everyone seems pathetically weak. The thugs that attacked me were hilariously ill equipped, the legions of knights and paladins didn't look much better. I'd say they were all lower than 20."

"Still, making too much noise is a bad idea. A massive shitfest can come back to bite us in the ass later. This is especially true since we have no idea of anything that's going on, meaning we could be alerting stronger and more vindictive powers to our presence."

"True…"

"And there is a bigger problem here. I have no idea where Sanctuary is situated relative to YOU. For all I know we might not be in the same world."

"Well did your scouts tell you of much else?"

"Between dinner and now, I got another set of reports, this time telling me that much further away was a spattering of small villages, but I doubt that helps. Every kingdom has villages."

"Yeah… That sucks…" Lapis's tone showed some disappointment. "But we should focus on gathering more information and cross referencing until we can find each other."

"A sound plan. I'm surprised."

"Hey, a little respect here, man. Don't forget that I'm supposed to babysit you after I finish my training program."

"I'd hardly consider the role of an advisor to be close to that of a babysitter's."

"And that's where you're wrong kiddo." Lapis could feel palpable disgust emanating from Skarlett through the [Message] spell. 'Okay, don't call him kiddo. Noted.'

"In any case, Lapis, your task will be to find a detailed map of all three major human kingdoms that shows the locations of all settlements, including small villages. I will send my scouts to map out the villages close to Sanctuary. We will then cross-reference the locations and names of each village so we will know where Tier Raid is situated."

"Sounds good, _Skarlett_." He said the name in an amused manner. "Anything else?"

"Yes. I will be calling you every evening at this exact time for further information exchanges. Make sure that you can pick it up when I call."

"Gotcha."

"Oh, and don't do anything stupid, okay. Just keep your head down and wait things out. The last thing I need is for you to make yourself known in a place that purges, genocides, and enslaves your kind."

"Yeah, yeah. I got it. More of the usual." Lapis shifted in the bathtub, making himself more comfortable in the now lukewarm water. "Now can I ask my questions?"

"Go for it."

"So let me get this straight. From your little meeting, you found out that basically everyone is your fanatic?"

"That's still unconfirmed. I have no idea if they are internally harboring ill will."

"But everyone openly treats you like you're their gloriously supreme leader, correct?"

"Correct."

"You'd think they'll treat me like that when I get back?"

"I honestly don't know. As far as I know from Bjergan, they think that I'm the last 'Divine Lord' left in the guild. Until I can gauge how they'll react to your return, I'm going to have to keep any information I have of you far away from them."

"Sounds good to me. What about the NPCs' personalities? You told me that they were weird but didn't elaborate."

"I would rather not elaborate." Skarlett insisted. "Let's just say some of them were very personal and some of them were quite neurotic. The Floor Guardians were a mixed bag.."

"... Fine. I guess I don't need to know people who I won't meet for a while. Hmmm." He mused at what Skarlett told him. "So you're now the leader of a mega fortress city that is practically self-sustainable and can levy an almost limitless number of fanatically loyal servants. From your conference, you found out that your subordinate officers all showed that they would support your every decision, with their only downside being that they may argue amongst each other?"

"Yes."

"Looks like you're living your dream, bud."

"Hardly. There's so much that I need to organize and learn before I can run this place efficiently. Right now I'm just hoping that my Guardians can make sure their own floors don't implode in on themselves. I don't want anyone making more problems for me to solve. Is that all?"

Lapis paused briefly to make sure there was nothing else he wanted to ask. "Yeeup."

"Well then, I'll leave you to your bath. I have to attend to other important matters."

"Like fixing that voice of yours?"

"Shaddup. The last thing I need is more things you can poke fun at me for. In any case, I will call you at the same time tomorrow."

"Same time, same place, same bathtub."

"Goodbye."

"Ciao."

And with the sound of a soft click, the call ended.

He could finally relax in peace in the now uncomfortably cool water.

"Damnit, I'll need to heat up a couple more bucketfuls."

…

'Now, how about Blackfire Arbalists?' Calphos pondered.

Those rotting crossbowmen were lower level variants of the Deathfire Arbalists, but they still can output an inordinate amount of firepower for a Level 60 minion. While their long range and AOE debuffs made them effective even in low numbers, the fact that they have extremely low health made them liabilities in unfortified positions.

The two glowing green dots within the Overlord's empty eye sockets shifted with his thoughts.

Revenant Archer Elites, on the other hand, were more reliable on the open field. While requiring the same summoning spell and retaining similar dps, they traded utility for greater mobility and defenses. These undead were already being utilized enmasse to man the walls of Sanctuary. They had also proved their effectiveness during the 'Righteous Idiot's Storm Korps [RISK]' guild wars, where they inundated the enemies of Tier Raid with showers of quarrels, sending waves of invaders to their shallow graves.

In the grand scheme of things, these ranged undead had few downsides that applied to them besides the standard weaknesses ranged summons usually had.

There were several other Mid-Tier summons that could compete with the two in effectiveness against the most powerful of invaders, but their abilities were too niche to be considered cost effective.

While there was an array of more effective choices that could be used against weaker opponents, it would be most unwise to underestimate their enemies.

Calphos took out an ancient bone quill and made note of alternative Mid-Tier summons on one of the sheets of parchments.

The choice of Mid-Tier summons as well as their ratios was all but set in his mind. Now he had to finalize the High-Tier summons. While commanding his necromancers to summon legions of Death Lords and only Death lords was a simple and attractive option, there were still many tasks that even they could not fulfill.

Leadership roles for example. Even simple Elder Liches could fulfill bureaucratic tasks better than these violent and brutal warriors.

Calphos turned his skull to face the Death Lord to his left.

The armored juggernaut holding vigil was a hammer in his arsenal. But his armory require more than hammers. He needed swords, bows, staves, and, most importantly, quills.

Yes, his fellow districts could provide as many hammers as Sangreal-sama requests, but only his could produce enough competent quills to maintain an expanding army of this magnitude.

He made a mental note of increasing the distribution of Low-Tier summoning spells towards Elder Liches.

'Crypt Lords would make for a fine addition to Sangreal-sama's quills.' He thought.

While they usually could only be obtained with gold as mercenaries, these undead could alternatively be summoned by two powerful necromancers, both using one of their four [Create High-Tier Undead] spell charges.

This commander-type undead was both highly intelligent and versatile. It can, by itself, summon and take charge of twenty Death Knights and buff them enough so that they can become a formidable presence against much stronger foes. A significant advantage of being able to create its own entourage was that a single one of this commander-type undead could lock down large areas through overwhelming presence.

Their arsenal of instant death and crippling magics allows them to take down individuals that would trouble lone Death Lords.

Their intelligence allowed them to complete complex operations while also making them capable of processing paperwork in more stable settings. This certainty is amplified by the fact that they can still control their twenty Death Knights while doing these tasks.

'They were truly amazing servants, but they take two [Create High-Tier Undead]s to create...' This task would be more difficult than he thought.

He looked towards his skeletal attendant, who was now doing a little jig at the center of his office.

"Haah," He quietly sighed. 'To be so blissful and carefree.'

He will complete this task as well as possible for Sangreal-sama, and then he will fulfill his promise to his boney friend. He'll make sure of that.

…

After relaxing in the guild bathhouse, Sangreal arrived back to his personal bedroom. It was grand and lavish, even more so than the halls on the other side of the door.

It had been a while since he last went into his own bedroom. He had forgotten the gleaming marble tiles that covered the floor and the intricately decorated walls. At the back corner was his oversized bed, soft and sumptuous.

How very tempting.

However, his focus was redirected to the jewel encrusted chest that sat on the table beside the bed. In all of his time in Yggdrasil, had never decorated the room with such an object, which means…

"That's probably the stuff I asked Rebis and Opus to get me… I think."

He approached the small decorated strongbox and unlatched it, opening it from the top.

The instant he saw what sat inside, his stomach heaved and churned harder than when he was once tricked into eating a meat paste sandwich by Lapis.

Leeches. Three large, black, squirming leeches.

He took a preemptive step backward.

The leeches kept wriggling, not taking notice of the distressed humanoid.

'Right.' Skarlett reassured himself. 'Siren leeches. The things that I requested earlier today. Those things… Yeah.'

Even when he tried to wrap his mind around it, he couldn't ignore how disturbing those things looked. In the game, their item descriptions said that they had to be attached to their user's neck for them to work, but he had hoped that they had simply stayed in their inanimate item forms.

"Ooooh god no." He managed to mumble.

He wanted to fix his nagging problem, but he had to get over his disgust for these things.

He took a step forward, towards the box of miscreated horrors. Reaching into the box, he gently grabbed the one at the very centre.

As soon as his hand touched it's warm, slimy hide, the creature went limp. It was still alive. That, at least, was for certain. He could feel its body throb with every beat of its tiny heart.

From arm's length, he could see the thin horizontal grooves along the length of its body, separating it into evenly spaced sections. Also in his sights were the tiny teeth embedded within its circular maw. That part of the creature was meant to attach to his neck…

'Ohhh god.'

He inched the creature closer and closer towards its neck. All of his instincts screamed out a deafening 'NO' but his knowledge reassured him that nothing bad will come of it.

As its wet mouth touched his neck, he felt it acting as a suction cup, locking itself onto where his non-existent adam's apple should have been.

"I hope thi-" As he spoke, he realized that his voice was not what it was before. Gone was the sound of a generic woman from some fantasy game. Now, it was a strange, unidentifiable and monotonous voice.

He touched the creature as he hummed, rapidly shifting the voice from a squeaky high pitched tone, to a deep rumbling, to a horrid shrieking, to an excessively suave tone. Several minutes of blind touching and fiddling passed before he finally figured out how these things generally worked.

Stroking it lengthwise increased or decreased the pitch, depending on if you run your fingers from tail to head or head to tail. Each of its body sections separated by thin horizontal grooves controlled a different aspect of a voice. One adjusted raspiness, another changed how much the voice echoes regardless of surroundings while a third would change the limits of how expressive the artificial voice was allowed to be.

Another couple of minutes of gentle caressing went by before he had gotten a workable voice.

It was one of deep and masculine timbre, almost comically so. If one would imagine a body that accompanied the voice, they would see a bulky, badly proportioned hero. One with an unusually chiseled jawline, who would proclaim how glorious his country is or perhaps declaring that he will save some princess from a terrible beast.

It was bad.

'That asshat will definitely make fun of me for this. I can goddamn guarantee it.'

"This will work." He said with an unintentional heroic timbre. "For now at least…"

Of course, this was what the two spares were for.

Unlike Lip Bugs, which the district filled with those horrifying arachnids definitely contained, multiple Siren Leeches could be equipped at one time, making it favorable if you need to change your voice on a fly if your commanding role in a raid changes.

After all, group [Message] spells often get garbled with idle chatter, so an artificially loudened voice was often used to draw attention to the group while a deep thunderous one would be used to command fervor during pre-boss speeches. While callous, high pitched voice would be used to command DPS members, an echoing one would command the tanks and healers. Needless to say, this was useful to broadcast meaningful orders for massive and often rowdy mega-raids.

The one disadvantage of Siren Leeches compared to Lip Bugs was the fact that their voice change was treated as an illusion spell whose dispel resistance scaled with the rarity level of the leech. If one were using a modulated voice to command large groups of players against another PvP group or a boss that had dispel spells in its rotations, the spells may destroy the leeches, sending voice feeds into disarray as no one would know who was in charge of what.

In short, reliability was traded for versatility.

He fiddled with the two other leeches for another ten minutes each before flopping onto his velvety bed sheets, satisfied by the results.

He firmly tugged on the three leeches that were on his neck, making three satisfying popping sounds as they came off. Barely managing to reach the strongbox from his position, he dropped the Siren Leeched back into their container.

As soon as the Siren Leeches left his hand, Skarlett was hit by a wave of drowsiness. He did not know why since he had felt fine until just now. Perhaps it was because he had completed his last task of the day, meaning that he was finally allowed to relax. Or maybe, he was just so focused on his tasks that he never had the chance to feel tired.

Whatever the case, he was now overwhelmingly sleepy.

The good news was that he was lying right on something he could sleep on. It felt odd to sleep anywhere than his usual bed. But this one felt so much more plush and cozy than his own…

He could almost see the sandman physically sprinkle his magical sand across his eyes as each surge of somnolence hit him like waves against a crumbling dam.

'Well… I don't really have anything else to do…' That was the last thing that came to his mind before the metaphorical dam burst open, sending him off into an even more fanciful land...

…

It was a beautiful starry night. One could hear the chirps of crickets if not for the rumbling of armored men riding horseback. The dance of the fireflies would have lit the grassy plains if not for the clouds of dust kicked up by the horses. However, all was not lost. The vast full moon still held it's beautiful luminescence, casting a soft blue glow upon the lands below its infinite gaze.

The disruptive interlopers were a large group of mounted soldiers, covered in thick leather armor complemented with thick plates near their center of mass. They rode into the night in an organized formation, yet they had an air of urgency surrounding them.

Another anomaly amongst the midnight symphony was a group of wearing strange flat-topped masks standing on a cliff, overlooking the riders with both contempt and pity.

They were right in feeling this way.

After all, everyone in the group had mastered of 3rd-tier divine magic, which made them superior to most magic users of this world. More importantly, those foolish horsemen were but flies flying into the masterful web created by their commander, the leader of the Sunlight Scripture, Nigun Grid Luin.

To say that all members of this group wore these masks would be a lie. In actuality, one of them his allowed his bare face feel the whistling wind. This man had short blond hair and a large vertical scar over his left eye. A brutal reminder of a prior engagement, a previous embarrassment that he would most certainly rectify. His most defining feature, however, was his sharp blue eyes, which almost seemed to glow in the dim moonlight.

To him, the situation of the world had become quite interesting.

The Windflower Scripture, instead of tracking down the traitorous former 9th seat of the Black Scripture, were suddenly given orders to bolster the spy networks of the glorious theocracy.

Similarly, the Black Scripture, who was in the middle of preparing for the resurrection of the Catastrophic Dragon Lord, was forced to forfeit their objective after using their Divine Artifact, Downfall of Castle and Country, on an unintended yet equally important target.

While he was not privy to who or what exactly they had captured with the divine object, he had heard faint whispers coming from the higher brass speaking of a holy entity possessed by demonic corruption.

After being notified by the Cardinals of the visions that came from the Black Scripture's 11th seat, the Thousand Leagues Astrologer, he knew for certain that the creature was related to the resurgence of the Demon Gods. If the Black Scripture had encountered such a being so soon, then he too may face one, if not a legion, of those damnable creatures during his mission.

However, he was not clouded by worry. No, he had no reason be. Even if his men were to be slaughtered to their last, he would have no fear in his heart. This was because he was blessed with one of his country's greatest artifacts. One that contained a power that could obliterate even the demon gods themselves.

Yes, even if the demon gods themselves were to throw themselves at him, they would have little chance of surviving.

"Hmh." He stifled a smug chuckle.

Nothing could stop him from slaughtering the Kingdom's most prized champion.

The man, filled with zeal and conviction, inhaled deeply. There was much to enjoy on a night like this, but there was work to be done.

"Tomorrow morning, attack the next village." He casually commanded. "Guide the beasts to their cage."

* * *

Notes: Sorry for such little content after two whole weeks. I went on a road trip without my computer, which meant that I couldn't work on my draft and outlines :( . If next chapter goes as planned, however, expect a one as big as the previous one if not even bigger.

The main purpose of this chapter, IMO, was to clarify some information of combatants, items, settings and build upon intrigue. To make things more… palpable, if you would. Hopefully it worked!

Also, I probably should have done this a long time ago, but here are the stats for a character. I will probably do one every time I post a new chapter until I've done them all or I want to leave someone an unknown for reasons.

 **Name: Skarlett Sangreal**

.

 **Title: The Sovereign of Blood and Steel**

.

 **Alignment: Neutral ~ Evil** / **Karma: -100**

.

 **Racial Level:**

 **Great Devourer (Level 1)**

 **Flesh Beast (Level 10)**

 **Inchoate Flesh (Level 15)**

.

 **Job Level:**

 **Shield Lord (Level 10)**

 **Blackguard (Level 5)**

 **Unholy Knight (Level 10)**

 **Valkyrie (Level 10)**

 **Jester (Level 1)**

 **Berserker (Level 10)**

 **Warlord (Level 10)**

 **Taskmaster (Level 5)**

 **Vanguard (Level 10)**

 **Cleric (Level 7)**

 **Paladin (Level 8)**

 **Hemomancer (Level 10)**

 **Baker (Level 2)**

 **Others… (Combined Level ?)**

.

 **Racial Level (26) + Job level (98+?) = 124 + ?**

.

 **Stats:**

 **HP: 150**

 **MP: 60**

 **PHYS ATK: 95**

 **PHYS DEF: 85 = 135 ([Living Armor])**

 **AGI: 85**

 **MAG ATK: 60**

 **MAG DEF: 85 = 125 ([Living Armor])**

 **RES: 90 = 120 ([Living Armor])**

 **SPECIAL: 90**

.

 **Total: 800 = 930 ([Living Armor])**

I would also like to thank everyone who left reviews! If you have any questions, put them in your review or message me and I will message back as soon as I can.

Thanks again for reading!

Edit: Fixed some errors in this chapter.

Edit 2: Woops, turns out that I was a complete idiot with my stats and did not do enough research on level 100s. Due to the advice of someone who is more knowledgeable than me on this, I have adjusted the character sheet accordingly. I apologize for making such drastic changes.

Edit 3: The new stats may not be permanent depending on how stupid they are. I literally got out of bed when I was informed of my idiocy and quickly band-aided the problem. I am falling asleep now and I will re-review these changes when I do not feel like passing out. This will be next morning. Thank you for your patience.

Edit 4: Woke up. Read stats. Stats were most certainly stupid. Adjusted stats to make them less stupid. Everything should be stable now. If there are any more changes to the stats, they will appear next chapter, probably along side a manifesto that outlines how I will approach character sheets from now on. I apologize for this fiasco.


	8. Ch 5: Asset Acquisition

"Shun not the outsiders, who have yet to behold the grace of true gods,

For the distinction between them, the ignorant, and them, the heathens are subtle at a glance,

One shall love our gods as we love them, whilst the other shall blaspheme against them,

Only one may be absolved of their filth whist the other purified by fire,

Honored is the duty of the Everyman, to illuminate the untaught rabble,

Sacred is the task of the Evangelist, to corral the learnt masses,

Hallowed is the role of the Lordly Knight, to receive the eager neophytes,

By the divine mandate given to us, we the humble servants shall enlighten the worthy and cast away the chaff."

* * *

Chapter 5: Asset Acquisition

Several days had gone by since the end of Yggdrasil. with the passage of time came several more verbal exchanges between Skarlett and Lapis.

With each exchange, their knowledge grew, and knowledge was indeed power in this context. Knowledge improved one's choice of actions and the surety of said actions. It held true in the real world. It held true in Yggdrasil. It should be held true here as well.

Skarlett sat in his office, toiling away at the piles of documents that accumulated over the course of the day. The flooring was of a rich, polished mahogany while the walls were covered in an intricate and textured wallpaper.

His job, while boring and time-consuming, ultimately took very little effort. All he had to do was read, use common sense, then approve or deny whatever the document asked for permission to do. Every single one of the papers that he'd processed was well written and had reasonable requests. In fact, he was tempted to simply approve everything without reading, but that laziness could lead to disaster if he hastily approved an extreme request or passed two or more conflicting ones.

It seemed that while his Floor Guardians were capable leaders, they still asked permission to do practically anything.

' _Some of these requests are so damn specific. Who in their right minds would ask for consent to assign tasks to their own subordinates?_ '

Skarlett sighed internally. That was definitely something that had to change.

Requests were not the only things that he'd read over the last few days. Skarlett had also been constantly updated with new information gained through the extensive scouting and covert operations conducted by stealth elements from the four districts.

In terms of Sanctuary's location, he now knew that it is situated in a forest on the Eastern fringe of Re-Estize. Lapis confirmed this by cross-referencing the locations of the scouted villages with the ones outlined on a detailed map that he had acquired.

' _Speaking of Lapis, I should probably get him over here after obtaining enough information. It should be easy enough unless unforeseen problems crop up._ '

As far as he knew, **[Gate]** and most other teleportation spells required either having already traveled to the locations you want to teleport to or have had recent visual confirmation using any method. However, he could bypass the requirement by having someone at the location set up a **Location Marker**.

The problem with getting remote visual confirmation was not it's difficulty. He could easily have Ash'hal's Crystal Scryers or Calphos's Darkbrand Farseers use their information magics to scour the Theocracy. It came with a rather steep risk, though, as anyone who happened to have anti-information wards active there would be notified of our presence. If the warder were specialized in this, they could even identify the user and their location. That would be an unacceptable gamble, even for someone as important as Lapis.

Using a marker was a viable alternative. Lapis certainly has mana-based utility spells that could generate them. This meant that Skarlett could **[Gate]** him over if he found a suitable space to place it down. The only problem was that markers emit an unmaskable signal that anyone could detect if they so chose, though that issue could be bypassed as **[Gate]** ing is nearly instantaneous. He could simply cast it on the marker, pull Lapis through, then close the portal. The marker would still be there, but that in itself would give very little information other than it being someone's potential point of interest.

Bringing Lapis here wouldn't take too much effort, but there was a more important question to answer.

Was is truly the best idea to bring him over?

This apprehension wasn't the product of any relational instabilities, as Lapis is one of his closest friends. He was more concerned with the potential reactions of the NPCs.

From taking on the task of eavesdropping various conversations in Sanctuary, he had managed to confirm at least one important thing. Everyone believed that he, the guild leader, was the last 'Divine Lord' left in this guild.

This wouldn't be a problem if he was sure that all the NPCs of the guild were infallibly loyal to Tier Raid, and thus himself.

Obviously, the initial response to Lapis's return would be nothing less than rapturous. There would be feasts and celebrations to commemorate the return of, or in their case, the resurrection of a Divine Lord. It would be an immeasurable morale boost, which was always a welcome sight for any workforce leader.

Whatever would come after was his main concern.

His floor guardians were not idiots. Most of them at least. They might as well be hiding their hatred for Skarlett flawlessly, only to turn on him when he's at his weakest. It had already happened to people greater than himself. However, they could not turn on him without a puppet capable of contesting him, one who had the legitimacy of challenging his position.

Another guild member.

He was not so paranoid as to distrust his childhood friend, but without knowledge of how mind control and charm spells worked in this world, he would not risk Lapis coming here with such low resistances. He wouldn't allow him to fall prey to a conniving snake or a scheming demon.

The seditious ones have not tried anything on him yet, but that may simply be due to their knowledge of his incredibly high resistances. Skarlett was not vulnerable to these effects and, even if the spell managed to defy his defenses, his resist stat worked twofold in reducing the effectiveness and duration of all entailing effects.

Simply stated, he was safe. Lapis was not.

Once they obtained their puppet, they would be on near equal grounds in terms of legitimacy. Then, the traitors would attempt to degrade the original leader's image by any means, usually by highlighting flaws and past mistakes. In his case, any mistakes he may have made in the past couple of days. At the same time, they would be attempting to sell their puppet as an untested, superior alternative.

After he was replaced, he would be disposed of politically by the decrees of their marionette and the puppeteers playing the strings would win.

It was a devious plan, one that he would be proud of uncovering if the exact same one had not been already utilized an untold number of times in almost every known company. Board directors of both reputable and shady businesses have been replaced using said method.

The process is as standard as it gets. Yet it is also quite fallible.

If he can build up enough of a positive image within the eyes of his more neutral subordinates, then the deviants would no longer be capable of convincing key individuals to support them.

Of course, this countermeasure would not work if over half of his Floor Guardians were already disloyal But this also meant that they wouldn't have needed a puppet in the first place either.

"Haaaah… Choices and choices and choices…"

*Knock knock knock*

Three sharp taps came from the door to his office.

' _How much more paperwork are these bastards going to keep sending me?! This is getting beyond ridiculous!_ '

His thoughts were not unwarranted. On the left corner of his massive desk was an absurdly tall stack of papers, all of which required him to personally process in order for the senders to carry out their intended duties.

"Come in." He ordered in a deep, bellowing voice. Yes, this one he made fit him and his armor perfectly. He still couldn't get over the response he got when he first used those things.

' _The last time I called, that bastard started hysterically laughing as soon as I started speaking!_ '

Skarlett squeezed his hands as he relived the embarrassing memory in his head

That exchange gave him motivation though. Enough to make him spend sleepless nights adjusting the Siren Leeches to make sure that something like that NEVER happens again.

The double doors opened in as smooth of a motion as one could imagine. A dark-skinned beauty entered the room, carrying not a massive pile of paper but a reasonably diminutive one.

"Oh uhm, Sangreal-sama…" Her voice was unusually anxious. "W-was this a bad t-time?"

"Hm? What do you-? Oh." It took him but a moment to understand why she was so nervous. His entire body was tensed like a snake about to strike. The pen that was in his hand had shattered into thin metal splinters under his crushing grip. His arm was visibly shaking.

Lapis had really done it this time...

"Ah, no. You couldn't have arrived at a better time, Opus." He reassured her. "Have you brought more documents for me to sign?"

"O-oh, no Sangreal-sama, uhm, these are just some reports of, ah, some more intelligence reports from the four districts."

As soon as he had realized that he received something that could break the monotony, Skarlett's mood elevated immediately. He gladly took the reports off her hands and started voraciously reading.

The reports, like the ones that came days prior, contained news of the current progress in extending the radius of his Sanctuary's vision. It also provided updates of what has transpired within the 'Absolute Control Zone', which was a large area surrounding the city where they had perfect information and optimal capability to deploy troops. This ever-expanding radius had already encompassed some of the closer villages. While it's growth slows at it expands, it should still reach the closest city, E-Rantel, within a month.

'Reading progress reports is so satisfying!' Yes, there were few greater pleasures in work than seeing grand advancements in all of their glory. Skarlett's mood went up another notch.

He continued his blissful readings, digging ever deeper into the paragraphs for even more signs of development. Unfortunately, this batch of notes had already exhausted its supply. All that was left was foreign incidents.

'Oh, they're still killing each other.'

Only a few days ago, a small force consisting of mounted knights bearing the insignia of the Baharuth Empire started purging Re-Estize villages. In this span of time, they had murdered and burned over 20 settlements to the ground.

This was not his problem.

His primary concern was the safety of his 'company' and its assets. Nothing more, nothing less. While assisting others would kindle relations in preparation for cooperative growth, there were more pressing matters to see through first.

However… The reports stated that the knights might be relentlessly purging, but they were slowly making their way towards Sanctuary. If they got much closer, they could be able to see the city's walls.

That would be a problem. A massive problem.

"Haaah." An audible sigh escaped his mouth.

So it seemed that Tier Raid must make an appearance after all.

Killing the knights off if they simply get too close to Sanctuary was an option, but if they were being overseen by information spells, killing them in a random section of a forest would raise too many suspicions when their remote observation spells get nullified.

If their information spells were shattered in a village, however, then they would logically assume that some well-equipped opposition with anti-information wards came into range to deal with the knights.

A much more favorable outcome for Tier Raid if they thought the Kingdom's operatives had destroyed their task force rather than some unknown opposition.

He flipped through the next pages, soaking in the information as quickly as his eyes allowed.

Calphos's scouts had apparently discovered that there were two other significant groups that had entered Sanctuary's 'Absolute Control Zone'.

One of the groups was another cadre of warriors riding on horseback. Unlike the knights, they did not wear full plate armor with the exception of what looks to be their leader. It would also seem that they were in opposition to the knights as they wore their insignia, that of the Re-Estize Kingdom, proudly on their armor.

It appeared that they were hunting the Empire's knights for some time, but have only recently caught up to them. By the scout's estimates, the Re-Estize warriors should come in contact with the Baharuth knights soon, though not nearly soon enough to negate all chance of Sanctuary's discovery.

There must still be personal intervention.

The other group was more puzzling. This group of people was uniform in appearance, wearing light armor and strange, flat-topped helmet-masks. From their wear and lack of significant melee or ranged weaponry, it was safe to assume that they were likely magic users of some kind.

Both groups had entered the Absolute Control Zone last night at about the same time as each other, but their movements do not reflect any distinguished connection between any single group. Instead, they seemed to be shadowing **both** the knights and the warriors, bouncing between them as the Re-Estize warriors chased the Baharuthian knights.

The group of magic users was not identified in the report as they did not bear any crests, badges, or symbols that gave away their affiliation. Whether they would assist the warriors or the knights was anyone's guess, but they may also be supporting both or neither party.

' _A wildcard. What a pain in the ass._ '

He could easily order scouts to go closer to gather more precise information, but that would put them at greater risk of being discovered. While it was unlikely that these magic users were much more powerful than the two other groups, it would be imprudent to simply assume so. Once again, even if they were too weak to see through the invisibility of his scouts, they may be overseen by more powerful entities, just as his scouts are constantly tracked by friendly scryers.

"Mmmmh." He mumbled as he ideas tumbled around inside his mind.

It would be best if he did not have to deal with that group, but if they were to interfere with his plans, he will not hesitate to eliminate them as well.

He had also decided to intervene against the rampaging knights in support of the warriors of Re-Estize. All that is left to do was to plan out the 'wheres', 'whens' and 'with whos'.

The location of interception should be a village that had come under attack. Nullifying opposing information spells there would produce the least suspicion when compared with his other options. While that would mean revealing the existence of an unknown power, he could simply use this action as a starting point to build relations with Re-Estize later on, as friendly actions are seldom ignored.

On the note of 'with whos'-

Truthfully speaking, from what was the information accrued within the reports, he was capable effortlessly eliminate the opposition alone. However, to satiate any paranoia from himself and his Floor Guardians, he would bring a small escort along. Hopefully one that didn't look too demonic or evil. This was needed to prevent fear from spreading within the village. After all, it would be more difficult to prevent casualties if they started panicking and running wildly away from their saviors.

As for when he would strike… It seemed that the warriors would catch up to the knights within the next three villages, but waiting for the full duration before intervening would put Sanctuary at risk that would have been easily avoided.

'Perhaps…'

He will intercept the knights at the next village and hope that he can handle the situation before the Re-Estize operatives arrive or, if they arrive before he finishes, witness his benevolence. That should at least give him some of their trust.

But should he reveal his true affiliation to them?

' _No, that would be completely idiotic._ ' He thought.

If they met, a gentle white lie and a few pieces of vague information should be enough to satisfy them if they were curious. Making them assume that he was an unrepresented individual would be enough to start warm relations. When Sanctuary is fully prepared to mobilize against any possible opposition, it will reveal itself and the good relations will be transferred from the individual to the guild.

If the situation degrades with the Re-Estize group, he could simply kill them off and the exterminate the rest of the village. That would make sure that all loose ends were tied and, while the village would not be saved, his primary goal of preventing Sanctuary's discovery would still be fulfilled.

"Thank you for bringing these to me, Opus." Skarlett closed the reports and placed them to his right.

"Th-there is no need to praise someone as p-pathetic as myself Sangreal-sama!" She exclaimed as she tried to remain collected. It seemed that she was still shaken by what she saw earlier.

"No need for so much self-depreciation. Perhaps give yourself more credit." As he said these words, Opus's eyes seemed to fill with… happiness? Her eyes sparkled as she looked towards her master. "In any case, I must have you send out a request."

"Yes Sangreal-sama! Your wish is my command." She blurted with excitement. Her face exhibited a strange emotion stuck between joy and longing.

"Firstly, request Calphos to find out what village these knights will attack next and the approximate time when. After that is done, tell him to prepare a small escort for me. The staging area will be the central courtyard of Blackfrost Citadel. I will be paying these intruders a rather unkind visit."

These knights were, from the information provided by Wrathshade scouts, very weak. The only reason why he may need additional forces would be if they decided to rout in many different directions or if more powerful entities —ones that were hidden among the weaklings— showed themselves...

"You wish to face these insects yourself?" Opus inquired.

"Yes. I do not believe that I am contributing enough to Sanctuary. A field operation would make me feel more useful." A masterfully crafted phrase that can improve his subordinates opinions of him.

"B-but you are the one above all others! You, our great Sangreal-sama, contribute more than enough already, more than any other!"

' _Ehhh. Sure but signing documents all day doesn't seem like much of a contribution… But I'll take it. Even though my lack of contribution isn't my actual reason for going out._ '

"Oh yes, and please tell the Guardians that they do **not** need to ask for my permission to do any task that is exclusively operated within their own sectors. It would greatly increase their efficiency."

' _And lets me retain my sanity._ ' he wanted to add.

This was just a well-deserved break.

…

At the outskirts of the village, Judas chased two girls who had escaped from his grasp earlier. One of them looked to be in her late teens while the other seemed to be barely ten years old.

He had sisters who were at their ages.

Judas shook off the faintly ill thoughts before they could even creep from the recesses of his steeled mind.

Chasing these girls was hardly a duty for a great warrior such as himself, but he must serve his cause and thus follow the orders of his superior, Captain Belius.

The rhythmic crunch of metal sabatons against the pebbles in the dirt contrasted against the frantic pattering of worn shoes.

He had to give credit where it was due. They were resilient little peasants as it seemed that all those years of toiling the land had given them enough endurance to run for this long. However, they could not outmatch him. He was trained a holy warrior, and no peasant girl was going to get the better of him.

Fifteen minutes into the chase, the girls were slowing just slightly. Their fatigue had become noticeable to his keen eyes.

He drew his bloodstained longsword from its sheath.

If their flight continued the way he expected, he would reach them in-

"Aiiiiieee!"

A sudden yelp filled the air.

The smaller one tripped, which in turn forced her older sister into a calamitous tumble.

The distance between the knight and the sisters shrank within moments. As he closed in, he readied his sword for a swing.

They knew what was coming. The younger one cried onto her sister's shoulder while the older sibling simply stared at him with burning hatred. It was to be expected after all. His sword and armor were splattered with the blood of her family and friends.

"It's pointless to struggle." He stated factually. There was no remorse in his voice. But nor was there contempt either. It was all a part of his duty. Nothing more. Nothing less.

They should simply stop delaying the inevitable. It would make it both easier on him and themselves. After all, the less they struggled, the easier it was to aim for a clean, painless killing blow.

They were both motionless. They have stopped struggling. For that, at least, he was thankful.

He brought his sword up to shoulder height, readying himself to deal the fatal strike-

"Don't look down on me!" The older one yelled.

With her battle cry, came her fist.

"Guwaargh!" The blow struck him straight on his nose if his helm were not there. The attack had come with staggering force, but it did not harm him physically. Mentally, however…

'That damn bitch!' His mind was wrought into a frothing rage.

Not only did he let himself get struck by this cornered rat, he was forced to let out such an unseemly yelp.

"Hurry!" The bitch shouted. Grabbing her wretched sister's arm.

"Y-yes!" The useless one replied.

' _No. NO, I won't let you!_ ' His mind screamed. His anger prevented his thoughts from forming into coherent words.

With as much strength as he could muster, he brought his sword down upon the filth before the cretins could get on their feet.

Like a hot knife through butter, the tip of his sword carved through the older one's flesh, creating a diagonal red streak across her back. The wild blow, inflicted with rage, missed all vital points, keeping the miscreant alive yet suffering.

"—Ggk!"

"Damn you!" He shouted indignantly.

That bitch had no right to struggle against him. He was the word of the gods. She was nothing to him. Absolutely nothing!

He was a kind person. He believed himself to be a good and tolerant man. ' _They had simply pushed me over the edge_ ' was his justification for his actions.

He stared with satisfaction at his brutal handiwork. He wanted her pain to last. Even if his duty called for a swift execution.

A dim pattering sound came from behind him. The footsteps of plate boots.

Monte, one of his fellow knights, must be approaching. He must finish this quickly to save face.

Tempering his rage, he concentrated on the location of his final blow. It had to be clean.

A bush behind him rustled and another knight, one dressed in plate armor identical to his own, emerged.

It was Monte. This had to be quick.

Raising his sword once more, he prepared to bring down his full might, focused and true, upon the miserable creature.

At its zenith, right as he was about to bring upon her death, a spine-tingling sensation flooded his body.

"E-eh?" He managed to stutter out. His body was frozen.

In front of him, only a couple of feet behind the cowering girls was a humongous circular mass of swirling darkness.

' _H-had that always been there?_ '

He had no answer to this question. One moment he was about to bring down the hammer of justice upon a cowering wretch. The next he was fighting back the urge to crumple on the spot and violently evacuate the contents of his stomach.

The swirling mass emitted an aura of death and despair. It had an absolute, crushing presence to it and it seemed that the girls felt it too. They were no longer cowering. Both had collapsed on the ground, trembling violently. It seemed that all control had left their bodies.

* **Thoom** *

A deep, echoing thud came from within. It was as if something lurked within the hazy veil.

* **Thoom** *

An identical sound came again from the shroud. Then another. Then another. After three booms, the time between the sounds halved. Another six booms and the pace increased once again. Another nine and it once again it sped up. With every single thunk, the sound became louder and more distinguished. It was almost as if a column of soldiers had just begun their march...

A horrifying realization had struck him.

It was a portal, and something was going to come out of it.

He was a holy warrior of the great Slane Theocracy. He feared only his own sins. And yet, he was shaking within his suit of blessed armor. His entire body felt unnaturally cold. His mind was drowned in unshakable terror. Each and every footstep solidified the palpable sensation of imminent doom.

The bands of dark fog covering the portal parted, as if in anticipation of someone's arrival.

The horrid sensation was beyond overwhelming. It took all of his willpower to keep his legs from failing him. He could not even shift his sight away from the dark nothingness of the portal as he feared that diverting any energy to move his eyes would cause him to collapse.

And then it happened.

A massive, wicked blade pierced the veil.

…

"Yeeeuuuh." Lapis yawned. The morning sun poking through the imperfect shutters of his bedroom had woke him up. Even if it had acted as a noiseless alarm clock, the glorious sun was always welcome. It was simply something that he had never experienced outside of his neuro-dive gear.

He was lying on his under-sized bed, with half of his body covered by an undersized blanket. This was one of the things that couldn't beat his more luxurious counterpart. Though, he still couldn't complain. In fact, it was a pleasant surprise that supposedly commoner blacksmiths had the luxury of affording more beds than residents.

He turned his body 90 degrees and put his feet on the floor. While he still felt a bit groggy, lifting his body from the stiff mattress came with unnatural ease. Though he could not explain why, every single one of his movements felt as if it took no effort whatsoever.

Though, his seemingly endless supply of energy may have been the fact that he had been cooped up in this house for the last few days.

'Stay low' this, 'Don't do anything stupid' that, 'Just stay in the house Lapis' blah blah. Skarlett's restrictive orders bored the living hell out of him. The only times he was 'allowed' to go out was to gather information or acquire specific items. While Skarlett had no way of finding out if he disobeyed these commands, Lapis had enough respect for him to stick by them anyway. Of course, another reason could be that the last time he decided to do unbridled exploring in Vacatina, several of its (albeit lowlife) citizens ended up dead.

It was enough to humor his friend slash boss for a couple of days but enough was enough. He would be holed in this place no longer. He was going to stick it to the man! Though, in this case, the figure of speech did not fit too well as the ONLY person that he could consider to be his superior would Skarlett.

He rose from the bed quickly, firmly placing his feet on the floor while preparing himself for the woozy feeling that came from standing up too quickly. It did not come.

"Oi, so ya finally woke up now?" The familiar, heavily accented voice shouted out. It was his host, Garik Stonehearth, who shouted from the kitchen and dining room that was only a couple of meters away.

"Yeah, the light got me up." Lapis replied as he made his way to the kitchen. A few steps and Garik and his son came into sight. Both were sitting at a small, circular table, eating breakfast.

"Well good mornin' to ye." The older dwarf said while occupying his mouth with warm bread.

"Gd mrrnrnng." His son barely managed to sound out with as his own was filled to its brim with pork and porridge.

"Good morning to you both." He said as he glanced across the main room. The kitchen, dining, living, and forging room was one and the same. It was an ugly yet efficient design choice.

Garik pulled out a chair for him as he approached the table.

Lapis sat down on it, though he was still much too tall for the table. While he could just sit on the floor to eat more comfortably, it would be rather rude to not take the chair that someone else offered you.

On his side were half a loaf of warm, crispy bread, several thick cuts of sausage, and a pint of some sort of cider.

He ripped a huge chunk of bread from his half-loaf.

"Mmmh. The bread's as delicious as usual." He barely managed to utter before downing a large portion of his cider. "Aaah. Cider too."

"Boy, I'd never believed you to be an elf if I saw ya eatin' like that."

"Hey." He remarked with a mouth full of sausage. "It's not my fault that the crap I usually eat can't come close to *gulp* normal food."

"Eh. For someone carryin' so much damn gold on yer person, ya really don't know how to treat yourself, huh."

"Mmmm, traveling doesn't give you many opportunities to eat well. I usually don't stop by towns." That was obviously not the real reason, but it certainly went well with the story Lapis gave him. Though it was amusing that the dwarf felt that this tiny bag of gold was worth a lot. To him, it was absolutely nothing. If he remembered correctly, he had millions in his inventory from his last-minute farming and there were at least hundreds of billions more in the guild treasury.

"Yeeeaah. Sorry for yer loss." Garik said as he bit into his bread once again. "I may not eat as well as those priests do, but I seem to feast like a king compared to you."

"Hah, don't be. It was my decision to live off the land." He once again dug into his bread.

"Ohrm, Mister Lazuras?" The younger dwarf managed to speak up. It was the first time this morning that someone had spoken without food filling their mouth. Garik's son, Magni was just a bit shorter than his father. Even if Garik said that he was still a kid, he had a damn impressive beard. In fact, the only way that people could tell a dwarf adolescent from an adult was from their somewhat higher pitched voice and their slightly softer facial features. "I's just wonderin' if you'd let me take a look at your arms."

"My arms?" He fought the urge to look at his limbs.

' _What kind of odd kid was this_.' He thought.

"Urm, yes. I's just wondering that since you're paying us so well, I could take some time to, well, clean and oil your daggers. After all mister, you seem to be a traveler, and my pa's never seen a traveler with weapons maintained up to smithy levels. No offense to you sir."

"No offense taken, kid. But I'm going to be out for most of today, so I'm going to have to keep them with me in case, uh, something bad happens and I can't come back here."

"Oh… Um, okay." The kid looked crestfallen. It wasn't like he didn't trust them or thought that the two would steal from him, but it was the fact that these were his MAIN weapons. His Divine-tier beauties that he got forged after weeks of non-stop farming and dungeon-crawling. Hell, he wouldn't even trust Skarlett with these.

But his backups, however… No, they were backups for a reason… Wait! What about that piece of garbage he found when he was hunting those giants? Yes! That would work perfectly!

"Actually," Lapis said with a slight grin. "I do have a replacement weapon that I just _know_ I haven't been taking good care of. Would you mind performing some maintenance on it?"

The boy's eyes lit up with joy.

"Oh, would I! Thank ye so much mister, ya won't regret it! I'll make yer weapon cut and shine like the day it were forged!" The boy's accent thickened as his excitement grew.

"Heha." His father joined it with a reassuring chuckle. "Don't worry Mr. Lazuras. My son may be young, but he's already the finest weapons caretaker in this six gods damned country."

Lapis forced a sincere-looking smile across his face. "I'm glad to hear it. Here's the blade." Lapis pulled out a sheathed dagger from under his coat and placed in on the table. "If you two don't mind, I will be heading out now."

"What? Without finishing yer food?" Garik asked. "That's mighty unusual for ye."

"Who says I'm not finishing my food?" He wore a sly grin as he bit into the loaf, holding it in his mouth as he rose from the undersized table. "I'm taking my food with me."

Both dwarves chuckled at the sight of the elf stuffing his face.

Before they could say anything witty, Lapis swiftly pulled up his hood and leaped through the front door.

"What a strange elf." Garik muttered. For the longest time, he thought that they were just elitist pricks who couldn't enjoy the simpler things in life. Even the ones enslaved by the humans here still held an air of arrogance.

That boy Lapis Lazuras seemed more like a dwarf with the misfortune of getting stuck in an elf's body.

…

The bleak and cold fourth floor was a far cry from the luxurious office that he was holed up in for the last few hours.

It was fine though, as the cold didn't bother him anyway. He was just happy that he was going outside for once.

Skarlett walked within the frozen halls of the icy fortress, slowly making his way towards the staging area.

He looked down at himself as he walked.

The armor and weapons that he had equipped were not from his main set. This was because he believed that his regular armor would be rather… problematic if he wanted to be portrayed as a savior of any kind.

He wanted to make a good first impression and, if he wore his Divine-class armor during the operation, he would risk having his rescuees think him as a tyrant who had come to enslave them after clearing out the opposition.

While he was out of his comfortable Bloody Baron of Jahad armor set, he was still geared in his outdated Glorious Redemption set. While his old Legacy-class armor provided him with fewer stats and synergies, the tradeoffs for a much friendlier appearance were well worth it

Unlike his Bloody Baron armor←-(good name), which seemed to percolate an aura of bloodlust and despair, this one gave off an air of brilliance and warmth. It's rounded shapes were much less intimidating than the sharper angles of his Divine-class armor while its gold and silver color scheme gave it a 'holy' aesthetic.

Of course, the word 'holy' fit it well. Back when Yggdrasil's second expansion had just been released, this armor set was considered to be the pinnacle of paladin fashion. In other words, he looked like a holy warrior of justice that would smite the blackest evils of this world.

He was nearing his destination. In fact, he was so close to the entrance of the courtyard that he could hear… Music?

The frantic squeaky toots of a lone trumpet crescendoed as he arrived at the entrance.

The music immediately stopped as individuals standing inside the courtyard came into view. It was Calphos and his skeleton attendant, who was still holding its cornet close to its lipless teeth.

Behind them stood four Death Lords.

' _Why were there Death Lords here?_ ' He asked himself. ' _Does Calphos have an escort with him at all times? How cautious of him_.'

"Ah, you have arrived, my lord." Calphos's raspy, echoing voice reverberated as all six of them kneeled.

"You may rise. Calphos, I am glad that you came in person."

"It would have been rather disrespectful if I were not here to send you off, Sangreal-sama." Though he did not need Calphos to create the portal, it was polite of him to come anyway. "I have also brought you your escorts, great one." He motioned towards the kneeling Death Lords.

'Oooh….' He realized. 'Ooooh no….' Said realization struck him like a sledgehammer. He had completely forgotten.

While he told Calphos to assemble a small force, he had never specified that he needed ones that were not so... monstrous.

And why did he decide to ask an UNDEAD to provide friendly looking escorts? How did this lapse in judgement happen? Were all of the documents a ploy to drive him insane?

"These four shall serve you well, for they were created within the finest abattoir within my humble Alchemy District. I can personally assure you of their effectiveness."

"Ah… Yes… Thank you Calphos." As Skarlett said these words, he was at the same time internally berated himself for forgetting such a simple thing. Now, he had to either go with these four and risk scaring off the villagers or refuse the escort he personally asked for and potentially offending Calphos.

This was not a dilemma. There was a solution to this.

In the grand scheme of things, the villagers were just villagers. Making sure the knights do not see Sanctuary's walls was the main objective anyway.

Safety over relations was the correct answer.

"A-are they not to your liking, Sangreal-sama?" Calphos inquired. There was a hint of nervousness in his voice.

Had he had picked up the hesitation in his voice? Did he think that the troops he brought for his master were not good enough? Did he believe that he offended his 'Divine Lord'?

Though his fleshless face could not display the proper emotions that revealed these answers to Skarlett, he could imagine that the overlord was sweating bullets whilst wearing a tense smile.

It seemed quite nice to have the world's greatest poker face. One could effortlessly mask any emotion, which would make intentions difficult to read and intellectual outmaneuvering practically impossible for foes.

"No, they are fine Calphos." Skarlett firmly stated. "You have done well."

With those words, it seemed that the undead spellcaster's nonexistent blood pressure had suddenly lowered to much more comfortable levels.

"Your words are much too kind." He graciously said as he bowed. "I am undeserving of su-"

"But you are deserving of this praise, Calphos. Never let anyone tell you otherwise."

The lights within Calphos's eye sockets seemed to beam as those words hit his nonexistent eardrums. His jaw clacked open.

"... Are you alright, Calphos?"

"Y-Yes. I am fine Sangreal-sama. Whilst I am honoured to bask in your glorious presence, I must attend to other tasks that will surely please you greatly." His hollow voice seemed strained, almost as if it was trying to filter out any irregularity in his tone. It was not filtering very well.

It was not filtering very well.

"You may leave at any time. I do not wish to keep you away from your duties for too long."

"My true duty is only to serve you, great one." He said as he bowed to his lord once more. His jaws were opening and closing as he turned 180 degrees towards the exit. "Follow me Mister Skehlatol. There is much we must do."

The overlord quickly power walked through the exit with his rattling skeleton trailing behind him.

' _Calphos seemed to be in a hurry._ '

"Was it something I said?" Skarlett mumbled.

Very likely.

While Skarlett picked up on Calphos's odd behavior, he could not tell if that had been a positive response or a negative one.

'Better not worry about that now.' He looked towards the four Death Lords, who seemed to have straightened their posture as his eyes fell upon them.

Since he was bringing not one, but four extremely intimidating creatures, he had to make up a good reason as to why he, a holy warrior of justice and peace and hope, was accompanied by such terrifying death dealers.

At least their armor covered the entirety of their bodies. This meant that the villagers wouldn't recognize them as undead using their eyes alone. If Calphos had brought Death Knights instead, then he would have had to find a VERY good reason as to why the living dead followed a paladin's orders.

Now, as for where he will teleport to…

He will **[Gate]** to a forested area just outside of the village. He had already marked the location using a **Remote Surveillance Mirror**.

From there, he will go to the village and save it.

" **[Gate]**." Skarlett extends his right arm outwards as he casts the spell.

It was the perfect teleportation spell.

The fact that it had perfect accuracy and an incredibly long range made it the ideal travel spell when out of combat. Utilizing this while under attack would be more difficult as it cost a decent amount of mana and was interruptible. If a smart assailant knew what he was doing, he could force his victim to both waste mana and prevent their escape.

A dark, circular portal materialized in front of him. It crackled with power.

It was a rift, about four meters in diameter.

Dark swirling clouds covered its flat surface. It was chaotic, yet looking at it was also somehow soothing.

Faint sounds came from the other side.

First it was soft crying, then a shout, another scream, then it became dead quiet once again.

' _Creepy…_ '

"Anyhow. You four!" The Death Lords snapped up in response to his voice. "Enter the portal first and form a shield wall on the other side. Do not do anything aggressive unless it is to return hostilities. We will not let loose the first strike. I will cross shortly after."

The four undead nodded and grunted in unison before forming a line in front of the portal.

They entered the **[Gate]** one after another, with the next individual taking a step as soon as the previous fully entered the portal. It took but a few moments before all four crossed.

Now, it was his turn.

He double checked himself to make sure all relevant buffs were up.

They were.

' _Just like in the game…_ ' He reassured himself as he stepped into the hazy abyss.

…

His heart was pounding.

This was the first time in his life that his faith had wavered. After all, what world protected by the Great Six could spawn such a foreboding monstrosity?

At first, he could see only a small piece of sharpened metal jutting out from the portal.

A split second later, the tiny spike revealed itself to be the tip of a massive flamberge. It was a colossal and terrifying weapon, for its blade was longer than Judas was tall, with its flat thicker than his own arms.

In the next moment, it was revealed to him that this unfathomably large greatsword was held effortlessly in a single armored fist. This said volumes about the strength of the thing wielding said weapon.

Another moment its right leg, covered in its entirety in greaves and sabatons as dark as the night, protruded from the portal, inching closer towards the still earth.

* **DOOM** *

The ground shook as its boot met with the soil. The clovers and grass surrounding it withered away, becoming dust within seconds.

This was not a natural creature.

Never before has Judas been so overwhelmingly terrified for his life. Not when he was a small child, cowering under his bed during a thunderstorm. Not even when he was robbed at knifepoint by a gang of heathenous miscreants.

No. This was fear beyond death.

Every part of his body screamed at him to run, cry, and beg for mercy. Yet he could not. His body dared not move in the face of such impossible adversity.

The weight of its presence was utterly overwhelming.

Another second had passed and the creature, in its entirety, emerged from the dark passage.

It was massive humanoid, over 4 meters tall, covered from head to toe in thick plate armor blacker than obsidian. The sheer brutality of the armor's design made it look lethal to the touch. A light body check from such a dreadful being would effortlessly split him in two.

In its right hand was the impossibly huge weapon, held as if it were weightless. In its left, a thick tower shield as tall and wide as its own body.

What was this... monster?

It was something that he could not even hope to defeat alone. It was something that even his entire party of knights could not scratch.

And yet, even now, staring at the face of death, he had not seen the deepest pits of despair yet.

The swirling masses within the portal once again parted.

' _No no no no nononono._ '

His stomach felt as if it dropped below the ground under his feet at this terrible realization. It was not alone.

Another massive humanoid, identical in armor and weapons, emerged from the ethereal gateway.

Then another.

Then another.

Four insurmountable armor-clad warriors towered over of him, emanating an aura of mind-rending bloodlust and sadism.

Yet they simply stood there. Silent. Unmoving. Almost as if they were statues.

And then…

A fifth figure emerged from the portal. This one was different.

While it was large, it was not as tall or wide as the other four. Instead of pitch black armor, it wore one that was of polished silver and shining gold. Instead of being surrounded by an unholy aura, this one was bathed in a warm, gentle ambiance.

A paladin? An angel? His savior?

This one rested its greathammer on its shoulder.

"Well well well." The paladin said with amusement. His voice was as beautiful as his armor. It was deep, yet gentle. It was one that could command the respect of even the lowlife wretches of his city. It was the voice of a true champion of light. "What a surprise. I didn't expect myself come face to face with the opposition already."

The paladin was not his savior.

"Come now. If you give me a good reason as to why you've been mercilessly slaughtering innocents and running down those village girls," He gestures at the sisters, still lying on the ground, frothing and twitching. "Then I may spare your life."

The man's tone was polite and gentle, yet Judas felt no sincerity in his words. He still had to try. His life was on the line.

Judas opened his mouth-

Correction. Judas tried to open his mouth, but it did not budge. In fact, no part of his body responded to his commands. He was still stuck there, standing in a frozen mid-swing posture.

"No response, Knight?" The greathelm that covered the paladin's head shifted slightly. "It seems that your companion won't explain himself either."

' _No. NO! It wasn't like that! I'm sorry! Please spare me. I don't want to die oh great holy warrior. Please I beg of you! PLEASE!' He wanted to scream, yet his frozen body did not allow for this._ '

"Tsk. Nothing? Then I guess that I will have to make an example out of one of you." The paladin said warmly. And yet, the kind voice could not mask the unmistakable presence of mirth.

'You planned this, didn't you. Monster.' He wanted to retort. 'You're stopping me from speaking so you can kill me without a guilty conscience. That's it, isn't it!?'

Yet, there was a shred of gnawing doubt in his mind. Had he been wrong? Were his actions not acceptable in the eyes of his gods? Were these transcendent beings here to punish him for his sins?

No. That was simply inconceivable. The gods would not simply forsake a man of faith for such small deviations in the holy path he treads. These beings were definitively not their holy agents.

"Frankly, the two of you look quite stiff. Let me help you out." The kindness of his voice was sprinkled with contemptuous amusement.

' _You monstrous bastard! Our great Theocracy will rid filth like you off the face of this world!_ ' He wanted to retort. But of course, he couldn't. Not even the spark of a man's rage could break away from this unseen stranglehold.

A change.

He felt the pressure around his body let up, but only a tiny bit. Just enough for him to turn his head towards his partner, who was frozen in place just like himself.

Judas could barely see his comrade at the edge of his vision, yet he saw the man's deep blue eyes shuddering in icy fear. The eyes were ones that pleaded for mercy.

Since he could turn his head, could he actually bolt away as well?

No. Just as his friend came into sight, the crushing pressure elevated once more, encasing his body like a layer of stone.

The paladin, in an unnaturally smooth motion, brought up his free left arm to chest level. The warmth of the paladin's aura was now tainted with hideous glee.

" **[Exsanguinate]** " The paladin clenched his left hand into a tight fist-

" _ **GAAAAH!**_ " The ear-piercing scream came from the other knight before being drowned out by sickening gurgles.

Judas watched as his companion convulsed violently, flinging his sword into a nearby bush as his entire body shook. The sound of wet popping filled his ears.

The noise had come from under the man's armor.

Shortly after the popping started, crimson blood started flowing from every single opening in the knight's armor. It seeped from where the limbs are attached, from the joints of his gauntlet, even from the holes in his helmet where those begging eyes once were.

All of the blood flew into the paladin's clenched gauntlet before slowly seeping down and into his armor.

"Invigorating…" The towering paladin said breathlessly.

No. He could not call that terrible creature a paladin. No warrior of justice could treat someone so cruelly, or kill in such a fashion.

Only a vile monster could use such a terrible spell.

As the last drops of his companion's life left him, his desiccated body fell to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

He wanted to cry.

He wanted to run.

He wanted to soil himself. Even an action as disgusting as that would have given him the comforting feeling of control.

Then, as suddenly as the entombment trapped his mind within his own body, it had stopped. He was released from the stranglehold.

He was free.

He could move.

He could run.

He ran.

He sprinted as quickly as his legs could carry him.

Tossing his sword to the side and ripping off his helmet, Judas felt the air rushing past his face as he rushed wildly back towards the village.

He had to warn them.

However, something did not feel right. Even though he was gradually distancing himself from the five monsters, he still felt like an animal trapped in a cage.

He felt their burning gaze upon his back.

Mustering what remained of his courage, Judas dared to look behind him.

And there they stood, still as statues. The four black knights stared at him like wolves would their prey. An obscene amalgamation of pleasure and sadistic glee seemed to ooze from their ebon armor. It felt as if they were readying themselves for a gruesome hunt.

Tears started to cloud Judas's eyes as he fled from those nightmares.

"Oh merciful gods please lords almighty I beg I beg I beg of you please gods don't let me die don't let me die please gods please..." His rambling was choked as he felt warm, salty tears streaming down his face. "Please gods, forgive me."

…

While the sniveling knight scurried away into the trees, Skarlett stared at his left hand.

The golden plating of his gauntlet was doused in the thick red liquid which had come from the fallen knight. The metallic smell of blood, which he usually considered to be rather unpleasant, felt oddly refreshing — almost like a sip of chilled water after a hard workout.

Instead of the feeling of revulsion or disgust in his stomach, he sensed something else rousing within him. Something that wanted to carry his mind away to a hidden paradise.

Skarlett brushed aside the vague upwellings within his head. He needed to focus. A wandering mind was an exploitable one.

Gathering his thoughts, he consolidated his experiences thus far.

It was a rather odd melange of events.

"What a strange pair of idiots." He muttered to himself. The two knights he encountered had literally stood as still as inanimate mannequins. Even after several generous prompts from him to start talking, they remained silent. It was only after he got impatient and killed one of them that the other decided to something — in this case, run away like a fool.

It did not matter. His soldiers could run him down at a moment's notice if needed. He would not escape.

' _Didn't Lapis say that every human here was as intelligent one would expect a human to be? Oh well, guess he was wrong. In any case..._ '

The girls lying on the ground were still shuddering uncontrollably.

Why were they doing that?

The older one had a deep cut along her back but cuts don't do that to people. The younger girl was also shaking and unresponsive, and she didn't seem to be hurt at all. The saliva that had foamed on their lips made them rather uncomfortable to look at. It was almost as if they were under some sort of debilitating effect. Unless...

' _Oh shit…_ ' The realization had come to him abruptly. It was rather embarrassing realization as well since he had not thought of this sooner.

Skarlett cast his eyes towards the Death Lords, who once again straightened their posture respectfully in response.

"You four. Deactivate your [Aura of Debilitation]."

And so they did without the slightest hesitation.

The effects were evident almost immediately as both girls suddenly gasped, gulping down deep lungfuls of the air that they were so deprived of prior. The older one coughed as she choked on her own drool after inhaling so recklessly.

Did he not notice because of his high resistances?

Were the passive auras why those knights couldn't respond either?

It seemed to be the case except for one discrepancy, however. The other knight seemed to have 'broke free' which couldn't have happened in Yggdrasil. Does this world's creatures have tolerances to continuous crowd control effects like those in that one dungeon-crawler game? Or perhaps…

Death Lords were supremely evil creatures. Their biography on almost all versions of Monster Manuals told of their love for inflicting both physical and emotional torment upon their enemies. They apparently consumed despair like candy and were also fond of running down retreating prey.

Maybe that was why he could run. His escorts decided to let him taste freedom before cutting him down per his orders.

He would have to confirm this behavior with Calphos.

And while it would be annoying that the Death Lords acted on their own, it wasn't as if their actions this time had harmed his plans in any way. Whether or not they talked he was going to eliminate them.

It wasn't as if any of those murderers deserved mercy anyways.

"Dea-." Oops, he almost let it slip.

Calling his 'compatriots' Death Lords was unlikely to sit well with the village girls.

"Deliver unto that fleeing killer swift justice, my warriors." He said as heroically as he could. His voice made the task quite trivial.

Bless these amazing **Siren Leech** es.

"After taking care of that one, head to the village in single-link loose formation and eliminate anyone wearing the same plate armor as those knights." He valiantly commanded.

Single-link formation, in his guild's jargon, meant always fighting with at least one healer in range.

Since Death Lords had multiple negative energy spells that healed undead such as themselves, they counted as links for themselves. And of course, logically, two-link formation meant two healers always in range, and so on and so forth. It was just one aspect of the glorious Spider-Tank Formation.

"Do NOT, under any circumstances utilize area of effect abilities." This specification came from the fact that, after rigorous experimentation conducted by floor guardians, friendly fire had been discovered to be always on.

He was not about to let the town become another graveyard because he forgot to specify orders for his eager death dealers.

"Most importantly of all," He paused for dramatic effect. "Make sure to save as many villagers as you can. Every single one of their deaths will be a black mark on your efficacy.

The Death Lords nodded in solemn agreement.

"You may begin your pursuit." With those words, the four massive warriors charged towards the direction of the fleeing knight.

' _These guys are fast._ ' Was the only thought that came up in Skarlett's head as he watched them embark on their grim duties.

A scrunching sound came from his left side.

The two girls, who still breathed laboriously, had managed to prop themselves up from the ground. The older one, who had a red, oozing slash across her back, was weakly comforting the younger girl.

"Ah." The girls jumped at the sound of his voice. "It seems that you two have recovered."

"...Y-yes" The elder sister replied… Cautiously. Moreover, her body assumed a defensive posture, putting herself between the younger girl and Skarlett.

Why was she so apprehensive? Had he not saved her from an imminent death? Granted, she had been the victim of his Death Lord's passive, but she yet lives.

As she shifted herself, the burning pain from the sword strike seemed to have flared up as she suddenly writhed in pain.

"Let me see that." Skarlett spoke in the kindest voice he could muster. His Siren Leech bolstered his efforts but-

As he motioned his hand towards them, the blonde one flinched backward.

Skarlett sighed internally. He was trying his best to be a nice person, but it truly tested his resolve when his kindness was not rewarded with any form of recognition. Perhaps it was his upbringing, but situations such as these always strained him.

' _No matter. Their consent isn't needed for healing._ '

" **[Greater Lay On Hands]**." These words carried immeasurable power.

For a brief moment, his extended hand glowed brightly before the light flew into the heavens.

In the next, the two girls were engulfed by a blinding pillar of holy light. This bright flood purified and renewed everything it touched. The girl, the grass, the insects lurking within the tiny green blades, all were indiscriminately healed within the 2-meter wide column.

After three blazing seconds, the pillar vanished as quickly as it had come. The girl's wounds had vanished along with it.

"How do you feel now?" He attempted to re-establish a positive footing.

The village girl gingerly touched her back, seemingly taken aback by the sudden removal of her injury.

"Thank you sir!" Her voice carried appreciation instead of caution. Her face showed of her amazement from such a miracle.

Progress!

The girl once again checked on the little one. "Nemu, are you feeling alright now too?"

' _So the smaller girl is called Nemu._ '

"Mhmm." Nemu sheepishly nodded her head "B-but sis, your back."

' _So they were sisters. Made sense._ '

"It should all be healed, little one." Skarlett reassured little Nemu. "If a ninth-tier healing spell couldn't fix that cut then nothing else will." He added some jollyness to his voice in hopes of lifting the mood a bit more. "In any case, who are you two? Why was that terrible man chasing you?"

"Oh! My name is Enri Emmot, sir. And this is my sister Nemu." This Enri girl seemed to have finally warmed up to him. From Nemu's posturing, it seemed that she too felt the same appreciation.

"I am…" His mind blanked.

Should he tell them his real name? What if it would be used against him later? Information leaks are terrible. What about a fake one? But what name is good? Skarlett had always been terrible at naming his characters. The name Skarlett had taken him over three hours for him to come up with an accept.

Jaime? Grayson? Was that too normal?

Rogal? Corvus? Too strange? He literally has a sample size of two names to work with, and both of them are from the opposite sex.

Shit! He can't take too long or else they would start suspecting-

"Skar! I am Skar, yes. I am a wandering paladin. You have already met my, ahem, gruffer companions." This story had to be enough for the time being. "I'm glad that the two of you are feeling better."

"Thank you for saving us mister Skar!" Enri exclaimed. Skar was loving this. Being praised by his subordinates was one thing. Listening to kind words coming from someone completely unrelated to him felt several orders of magnitude better. After all, appreciation had more sincerity when it came from someone off of the payroll. "And, ah, did you say that you used a spell?"

"Why yes indeed. Do you know of such things?"

"Yes! My friend, who is an alchemist, has shown me his spells before. But i've never seen one like that."

"That's only natural Enri. After all, your friend is an alchemist and I'm a paladin. It would be strange if we used the same ones!"

"Right! Sorry, I don't know a lot about this stuff."

"No need to feel ashamed about it. Lack of knowledge just means that there's something to work towards." He tried sounding inspirational.

Enri's eyes glimmered what seemed like admiration. Her look made him crack a smile inside of his helm. These were eyes that fed his ego.

"Why those men in armour attacked us though…" Enri seemed to think deeply for a moment, before visibly giving up. "I don't really know mister Skar. They just came out of nowhere. I first heard screams coming from the village while I on my way back from the well. I dropped the buckets to run back but…" Her face of wonderment had become one of sorrow.

"You don't have to continue if it bothers you. It does not matter when or why these knights are attacking your village, but know that I will try my damndest to stop them. You have my word on it." His words were filled with resolve.

"Y-you would save our village?"

"Of course! What kind of monster would I be, to abandon people in their time of need?"

Enri face told him that actions such as his were not so common in this world.

So much for reputation grinders.

"In any case, you two should stay here for about half an hour before heading back to the village. It should be completely safe by then. And don't worry about encountering anything dangerous. The spell I used also gave you two strong shields that won't break as long as you don't try to hit anything."

Enri and Nemu silently nodded.

"Please stop them mister." Nemu sheepishly said.

"Don't worry little Nemu, I promise to stop those villains. Now, the both of you be good and stay out of trouble. When you return to your village, you will be greeted by friends and family instead of those armed men."

There was a certain problem with what he said earlier. He promised Enri and Nemu that he would save their village. If he were to keep his word and their adoration, then he must abandon the thought of alternative victory conditions. Saving the village was no longer optional in his head.

It was fine.

He can do this. Death Lords are all covered up and have their aura turned off. The only people getting a bad end today would be the invaders.

The carnage in that village would be stopped, amusingly enough, by another massacre.

It seems that violence truly begets more violence.

…

Vacatina's primary marketplace seemed quite crowded even during the morning. This was fortunate, as it meant that any differences between Lapis and a human would be hard to pick out in the sea of people. Of course, if he ever would be discovered, large groups of people made it absurdly trivial for him to simply lose any pursuers.

Lapis walked around the stalls, snaking between merchants, men, and children alike. The small pouch latched onto his waist clinked as he moved about. The purse was filled with coins that the dwarf family had generously given him. Coins that could actually be used as a currency.

From what he learned, bartering was not very common in large cities such as this, which meant that he couldn't simply trade his items for interesting products. It also wouldn't hurt to assume that he can't just approach a fruit stand and sell all of his junk to the salesman without raising several eyebrows.

He tapped the bottom of his pouch as he perused each of the merchant stalls.

It felt neither heavy nor light. There was enough to buy him at least one thing of interest.

A couple of trinkets, perhaps.

But which ones should he buy, if any? Each and every merchant boasted a plethora of strange and unique objects for sale. Some sold gaudy knick-knacks and baubles, others showed off crates brimming with egregiously low quality throwing weapons such as knives, daggers, and even metal balls.

More interesting items did, however, exist hiding amongst the chaff. One particular object that caught his attention was an odd metal ring attached to a stick. It looked to be enchanted with extremely simplistic wind magic as Lapis could feel cool air being pushed out of one end of the ring.

A small, portable, albeit rather weak, fan.

The price was listed as 20 gold, which was hilariously cheap by Yggdrasil standards.

He reached into his coin purse and found…

3 gold pieces, 15 silver coins, and a couple of coppers.

Right… This world's economy was absurdly wacky.

A single gold piece can feed a man for months, which meant that a simple little fan cost over a year and a half of food.

Lapis slid the coins back into his pouch, annoyed by both the dwarf's lack of currency and his own inability to produce said currency safely. Just as he heard the clink of the coins as they landed atop of one another, he noticed a familiar face in the distance.

About 20 meters away, was that girl from earlier. The one riding the carriage with the fat man.

Yes. It was unmistakably her.

There was the beautifully curled chestnut hair, the pair of glimmering eyes, and that flawless face wearing such an alluring grin. While she was now dressed in a less radiant dress, it was still immaculate and perfectly fitted.

Seeing her from afar was one thing. Being this close to her truly made it obvious as to just how stunning she was.

The girl, likely several years younger than him, was browsing the merchants' stalls too.

She seemed so happy and carefree, smiling sincerely whenever she talked. His heart felt just a bit warmer.

Lapis shook his head.

' _You can do better._ ' He assured himself. ' _Just think of some of the NPCs back at the guild._ '

It was a good strategy, to be fair, as some player creations were literally made to be flawless fantasies for the less savory guildmates. Tier Raid, like all player guilds, contained its fair share of weirdos and deviants who were simply incapable of 'interacting' with real women in any legal manner. Thus, they went for the obvious next best thing.

Though, this was not the time to think of things such as this either.

Lapis shifted his attention back towards the pretty girl. She was flanked by two rather stern looking guards. Both looked to be in their mid-twenties.

The fact that their eyes always softened whenever their gaze fell upon their charge had told him enough.

' _A pair of lovestruck fools._ ' In all due likelihood, they believed that by guarding her, they could have enough alone time to get closer and eventually declare their true love for her in an unbearably cheesy manner. They would hope that their 'deep connection' would be able to break through the social and economic barrier between them.

' _Fat chance._ ' Medieval social hierarchy was as rigid as diamond.

A faint yet disturbing thought emerged from within him.

' _Am I projecting?_ ' Which was answered quickly by an immediate ' _Haha, nah_.'

The differences between those two and him were colossal. He could win her over within a minute. Those two buffoons had no chance.

Their probability of success was made even worse by the fact that BOTH of them looked to have fallen for her. It would not surprise him in the slightest if they started physically fighting each other if either one tried to make the first move.

Even if one of them just so happened to be 'superior' to the other, he would still likely be violently rejected. The aftermath would once again be predictable.

After all, it's been shown over the news multiple times. Suicides from unfortunate Icarus wannabees who flew too high and had their hopes dissolved by their beloved sun, falling to their self-induced deaths. Good working men who had committed murder against one another as they discover that they weren't the only sap who was interested in their impossibly beautiful manager.

To him, no love was true love. Everything one could ever want, including a partner, was based on one's internal value system of what is most satiating.

' _Those poor dimwits. Hopefully they won't take the rejection too hard._ ' He forced down a snicker as he imagined their future plight.

As entertaining as her little entourage was, he'd still much rather look at the products some of the more interesting stalls displayed. Their drama mattered little to him.

His mission was synonymous with his nature.

Observe. Learn. Improve.

…

What a pitiful sight that man had become.

It took Skarlett barely a minute of casual walking before encountering the knight that had fled the scene earlier.

And what a truly appalling condition he was in. His armor had innumerable dents pocketing its surface, with all manner of leaves, twigs, and dirt caking its newly formed crevasses. His legs below the thighs had been cut clean off and, from how the stumps angled, it seemed to be the result of a single, deliberate swing.

Truth be told, he resembled a child's doll that had been roughly played with in the mud and had been subsequently broken, losing the interest of its capricious users. And from the presence of multiple massive, deep bootprints engraved within the ground and shattered tree branches above, it was rather obvious who had been playing.

He had died in a prone position, but from the two red trails leading to his stumps, it seemed that he still managed to muster the strength to crawl a meager distance away after his Death Lords had left.

Strange.

That feeling was back.

That vague sensation that welled up from within when he slew those wolves.

The same feeling that came to him after his first meal in this world.

This time, however, the feeling could not be repressed.

As his eyes had fallen upon the man's cold dead body, he finally understood what he had felt.

Hunger.

Ravenous hunger.

Not the simple hunger that could be satiated with fine food.

One that was unnatural

One that was utterly disgusting and yet so intoxicating.

He unknowingly licked his lips.

He felt his heartbeat quicken.

His mind was enveloped in a warm, gentle haze that ever so slowly pulled his superego deeper and deeper into his unconscious.

The man's corpse was just sitting there, tempting him. His normally quiet mind was now swimming with countless unrestrained thoughts, all telling him to do it. To satiate this clawing emptiness.

To feed.

A weak, whimper came from the corpse.

The man was alive. Just barely.

And yet the thoughts did not cease.

No. The flood had only worsened. The voices crescendoed until they had become tangibly audible. All of them prickling his mind with such irresistible directives.

" _Devour him._ " One said. " _Pull it apart._ " Another overlapped. " _Rip and tear rip and tear_ _ **rip and tear**_ _._ " A third frantically commanded. All the voices piled on top of another, forming a cacophony of disembodied yes men.

He heard gentle, laboured breathing that intertwined with nearly silent sobs and groans. Was that one of the voices, or was that coming from the man? Was that his own doing?

It did not matter.

" _It's alright. Everything would be over soon enough for him._ " A soft voice comforted him.

He stood several meters away from the dying man.

He blinked.

He stood right next to the dying man

' _What?_ ' His feverish mind attempted to process what had happened.

When did he move towards the dying man?

It did not matter.

He crouched down so his hands made contact with the knight's marred armour.

With a gentle pinching motion, the sharp ends of his gauntlet's fingers snipped a vertical incision within the back of the thing's chest piece. Another tender motion of his hands distorted the slit into a massive aperture, revealing the warm, soft, and bruised prize within.

It took all of his willpower to stop himself from immediately tearing into the wretch.

Yes, he must fight against this hunger. He must resist this urge as long as he could. Even if saliva flowed ceaselessly from his mouth. Even if the metallic aroma of blood made him feel like a starving dog. Even if he could already imagine the texture and taste of the juicy flesh and fat that would fill his mouth.

Yes, he must resist.

After all, restraint would only further intensify the inevitable reward.

This would be a true feast.

…

All were quiet.

No one dared move.

This was a natural response, of course. After all, what sort of creature would willingly damn itself when facing such adversity? When such insurmountable fear filled every crevice of their now insignificant lives?

None. That was the only logical answer.

Yet, the gleeful hunter cared not for their terror-fueled stillness and silence. No, it paid little heed to the status of the foredoomed.

.

.

.

*CRUNCH*

The sound of metal buckling and contorting at the application of terrible blunt force filled the air.

Londes Di Gelanpo could only stare blankly as his companion, Erion, was launched into the sky at an unimaginable speed. Within moments, his body flew, faster than arrows released by seasoned bowmen, from one end of the village to the other and then beyond past the treeline.

' _Impossible…_ ' Was the only word that came to his mind.

Less than a minute ago, a massive juggernaut clad in obsidian black plate emerged from the forest. Its entryway was the exact same point where Monte and Judas had entered the woods to hunt down two girls that had escaped earlier.

The fate of those four was grimly disclosed by the crimson liquid splattered across the armor and weapon of that... _monster_.

Monster was an apt term for this thing, for it could not possibly be human.

As soon as it crossed the treeline, the monstrous warrior charged them like a demon maddened by bloodlust. It reached Erion within an instant, before he could even turn his head to face the emergent threat.

During the short moment before Erion received his lethal flight, Londes caught but the faintest glimpse of the thing standing over him. It dwarfed his companion like he himself would a child. It must have been at least twice as tall as himself, and thrice as wide.

No human could possibly be this massive. Yet, its build also did not match those of the various monsters that they had a chance of encountering on this mission. In short, they had absolutely no clue what exactly their opponent was.

While its size could be measured, its strength could not. The bare minimum estimation could only be based on a show of force that no humanoid could ever hope to match.

Of course, the show of force could indeed be matched… with another from the same ungodly entity.

This monster, this _Lord of Death_ , dashed across the open field, closing the distance between where Erion had stood and the next closest knight within an eyeblink. It was so swift that all Londes saw was a streak of blackness occupying the space between its start and end.

With profane grace it smashed its colossal tower shield into Ririk, sending his body and soul towards the heavens with a sickening crunch.

The Death Lord did not continue its assault. While it stood in place, Londes could feel its eyes scouring across his men.

It was looking for its next victim.

That was when Londes noticed the pleading. It seemed that everyone else had noticed as well.

"Oh gods, please save me."

"Please no please no please no."

"Oh gods gods gods please."

It was disturbingly remarkable that so much emotion could be forced into such quiet voices. Weeps, sobs, and quivering voices could be heard through the slits of their helms.

'Those cowards.' Londes thought.

Londes did not fall to his knees and whimper like his compatriots.

No.

He fell to the ground pleading as loudly as he could. Hoping, wishing, begging for his gods to save him. Cursing at them for allowing such an atrocity to bear down upon them. While doing so, Londes felt waves of guilt, ones formed from his own indignant hypocrisy, washing over his conscious.

The Death Lord cared not for their words.

In the time it took for his knees to touch the ground, a man's head was flattened against the dirt.

Before a single word of prayer escaped his mouth, another two were bisected from shoulder to hip.

Within the span of his brief, curse-filled prayers, ten more were butchered before him.

When he finally found the fear-fed strength to stand, he witnessed the death of his irascible captain. Merciless were the sword swings of the Death Lord. Wielding its two-meter flamberge like a duelist would his saber, it slashed apart Captain Belius with blinding speed, over and over until all that was left were bloody chunks of putrefied offal.

" _ **Hrrrrmmm**_ **.** " A deep, throaty groan escaped from the creature. No natural creature could make such an unnerving sound that seethed with such malicious joy.

It was enjoying this massacre. That damnable thing was enjoying this.

Over a quarter of them were already dead.

When despair had seemingly brought the men to their lowest possible point, it decided to smash their forlorn egos against the proverbial floor until the nadir sank even further.

The corpses –the remains of their fallen– started twitching.

The bisected bodies were immediately consumed by a shadowy ichor that emerged from where they were parted. The more scattered pieces conglomerated first before being engulfed by the same blackened gel.

These horrific masses convulsed as they grew and grew as they convulsed, taking more tangible shape as it pulled and stretched.

And what horrific shapes they took. Unlike their creators, these things were more visibly unnatural. First to solidify were the blackened, necrotic flesh of their massive bodies. Then came their ebon armor, which took the shape of thick, tarnished metal that covered their chests, legs, and head. Last to form their armaments. Massive flamberges, emanating a sickening red-black aura, and impenetrable tower shields.

If their creator was considered to be a Lord of Death, then these would be its loyal knights.

While they were neither as massive nor as armored as their progenitor, each of these Death Knights looked to be capable of single-handedly demolishing any opposition Londes and the men could offer.

Was there a limit to how much despair the world could inflict upon faithful, god-fearing men?

" _No."_ Their gods would answer if they could.

Three more massive figures emerged from the forest. Three more Death Lords to join the slaughter.

…

The village was located snugly between the start of a great forest and an open field that stretched for miles. Unfortunately, it was also located much less snugly on the border between the Re-Estize Kingdom and the Baharuth Empire, making it contested territory between the two opposing nations.

Of course, because the invading knights bore the Baharuth insignia, it was logical to conclude that the village currently belonged to the Kingdom.

What a quaint and idyllic hamlet this was. Carne, the sisters called it. It would have made for a popular home-screen setting for nature-minded dive gear users. Though, the bodies would have to be removed first.

The corpses of the villagers were visible as soon as Skarlett exited the forest. Most of them were slumped towards him with multiple arrows embedded within their backs. Those were telltale signs of failed fleeing.

Baharuth Knights were ruthless bastards, he'll give them that.

The closer he got towards the village, the worse the massacre appeared. At first, all he could see were the dead bodies of men. As he walked closer, corpses of women started appearing. A dozen steps later, he could see the small, crumpled forms of multiple young children. It made sense. After all, fully grown men are faster and harder to take down than their wives or kids.

The sight should have shaken him to the core, but all he felt was disappointment and mild annoyance at this wastefulness. Attachment to strangers was never a trait someone would attribute to him but he was still human at his core. This foreign indifference just came to him so naturally.

At least he did not feel any hunger. A second bout of that madness would not go well with any part of his established plan. He could only be thankful that the first occurrence came to him at such a discrete place and time. This was, of course, something that no one must ever find out.

Odd.

No knights were in sight, dead or alive.

None of his Death Lords either.

Where had they gone to?

They couldn't have all fled.

His answer came into sight as the village centre came into sight.

At the epicenter sat a group of villagers huddled in a tight group, cowering. Surrounding them were the four Death Lords, who took defensive stances around the mass of fragile lives. And around those Death Lords were…

So that was where the knights were.

' _Ohhhh No… No god damn it!_ ' Skarlett screamed internally.

Several dozen blasted Death Knights, in all of their unholy and rotting glory stood encircled around the Death Lords and the villagers, facing outwards as well. From the looks of it, the villagers were crystal clearly scared out of their wits by those creatures.

He couldn't blame them either. They were clearly rotting humanoids filled with murderous evil. Their mere presence tainted the air around them like a dark haze.

Skarlett fought the urge to put his hands to his head and yell in sheer frustration at himself.

He just couldn't believe it. He'd forgotten about it.

He'd forgotten about one of the most lore-defining mechanics of Death Lords.

Every time they deal a finishing blow, a Death Knight would take the victim's place and join their ranks. This conversion mechanic was very common amongst undead mobs, but because of how rare it was for a player to die from such defensive monsters, he'd never seen one actually spawn because of it.

If Death Lords were used in PvE content, they seldom survived long enough to deal finishing blows to any significant enemy. Even if they did survive to the end of the encounter, they seldom dealt the final blow as they simply did not hold enough individual burst potential to accidentally take a kill-count away from the common profile statistic hungry players.

In defensive PvP, where they would form entire legions to counter player assaults where they could actually deal finishing blows to players from time to time, the Death Knights would just die the instant they spawned in by the rampant AO spams from the opposition.

Skarlett had a reasonable basis to defer some of the blame, but the mistake was ultimately made by him alone.

Counting out several grievous physical wounds and the ingestion of meat paste, this kind of pain, pain caused by his own idiocy, was amongst the most agonizing feelings he had ever felt.

He was a ten-year veteran of Yggdrasil. His knowledge of the game rivaled that of the best information brokers! He was proud of the vast archives of knowledge stored within his skull. So how in the hell could he forget this single, massive detail?! This singular detail that barred him from his goals.

Skarlett's objectives were to

A: Prevent the discovery of the location of Sanctuary… Fulfilled.

B: Establish amicable relations with the rescuees… Failed.

' _No… No! This can't happen to me! How can I fix this?_ '

Scarlett could not bring himself to admit defeat on his very first mission.

He had never failed to complete even the most difficult main quest from Yggdrasil so he damned well knew he wouldn't allow himself to embarrassingly botch a piddly little self-given side-quest like this.

He could salvage this.

He would salvage this.

As he approached this three-layered group, the faces of the villagers that finally noticed him brightened. Their expressions of fear turned into one of rekindled hope.

Good. His physical appearance was very clearly making a positive impact on these people.

His Death Lords and Knights had also noticed his presence. As he arrived, both the Lords and their Knights turned themselves towards him and kneeled respectfully, embedding their flamberges into the dirt and held their hands at their chests as they lowered their heads.

Good. Establishing that the kind, golden paladin as the leader was a fine start. Perhaps that would ease the villagers.

Wrong.

The hopeful glints in their eyes turned to horror as they realized their would-be savior was in league with the terrifying monstrosities that surrounded them.

"Rise." He commanded the undead.

And so they did.

"You four." Skarlett motions at the Death Lords. "Get those… things away from them, **immediately**. They're terrifying those poor people. Tell them to head into the forest and remain there until further notice."

Another masterful ploy if he could say so himself. Skarlett was attempting to establish more distance between him and the monsters both literally and figuratively. If he could get those people to believe that he could not command the obviously undead warriors directly, then there would be much fewer problems in recognizing him as a purely good figure.

The Death Lords nodded in response and started directing their Knights with simple hand gestures. Within a couple of moments, all of the monstrous troops had left the vicinity, leaving only the villagers and their saviors.

With their departure, all of the villagers seemed to ease their rigid postures in near unison. Skarlett could almost imagine them simultaneously breathe a sigh of relief.

' _And now, to capitalize on the more relaxed atmosphere._ '

"Be at ease. We aren't here to harm you." Skarlett tried to speak in the warmest, gentlest tone possible. He must do everything in his power to appear sincere and caring.

"Y-you are…" A stout older man was the first to speak.

"I am a wandering Paladin, a blessed warrior of sorts if you would. The more, erm monstrous beings that you witnessed were grave sinners. To repent for their crimes, they are doomed to an eternity of servitude under a taskmaster." He motions towards the Death Lords. "And those taskmasters work under my guidance."

"I…. I see… But why did help us, Sir Paladin-sama. W-we do not have much to offer."

"We ask no price for this. We simply saw that this village was being attacked, so we came here to help. It would be simply inhumane of us to ignore a situation such as this."

"Ohh…"

And then came that simultaneous sigh, replacing everyone's apprehension with relief. From what Skarlett could tell, there were very few lingering pieces of discomfort left scattered between a few folks.

' _And now, for the next step._ ' Skarlett smirked under his helm.

"Even though we came as fast as we could, it seems that we were not nearly fast enough." He injects hints of sorrow in his words as he turned his head in pretend shame. "I…. I saw them as I came here."

Their relief shifted into sorrow. They had lost many. Families were torn apart during the attack. Women became widows, men into widowers, and children into orphans. Such destruction was sure to leave unhealable scars for the rest of their lives.

Some of the men broke into tears whilst the women wept. Their faces were all filled with deep dejection. It seemed that speaking of this topic had brought back the terrible knowledge that escaped them when their own lives were still on the line.

Yes, this was what it was like to lose your loved ones. There were few greater traumas in life.

' _The more significant the recovery, the greater the response._ '

"Those terrible murderers got what they deserved." He tensed his fist in synthesized anger. "But your people did not deserve these… disgusting acts of violence. I will bring back your loved ones."

"Please, great warrior, you've already done so much for us." The same man spoke again. Perhaps he was the village chief. "We'll carry our own dead. It's the least we can do for them."

"No, that is not what I meant." Skarlett replied. "I will bring them back to you."

The man stared at him blankly. He clearly hadn't understood the meaning behind those words.

It was of no matter to Skarlett of course. His actions would speak well enough for him.

Skarlett extended his arms outwards, as if he were about to receive an embrace. In response, two golden magic circles sprang into existence around his hands, both about one meter in radius. Then, two larger on emerged above the first. Another eight more appeared above those.

It was a fantastical sight that drew everyone's eyes.

The circles, wholly covered in luminescent symbols, rotated in opposing directions. As they turned, a faint noise steadily made itself evident. It was a hymn, sung so beautifully that tears began filling the villagers' eyes. The music evoked all of the joyous memories of their fallen loved ones, reminding them of every happy moment they have ever experienced in their lives.

The rate at which the magic circles turned increased while the gentle glow intensified in equal magnitude. The warm hymn slowly transitioned into a rapturous orchestra of angelic voices singing with divine fervor. Skarlett, who was still motionless, was now engulfed in a glorious golden glow like a sacred seraph that stepped upon the mortal plane.

" **[Psalm of the Messiah (Mass Resurrection)]!** "

The light suddenly expanded, blanketing the village in a singular beam of holy radiance.

Then, in the sky that was clear as polished sapphire, golden droplets began to fall from the heavens. As slow as snow, they descended, gently towards the hamlet. Not a single breath entered their lungs, for they had long forgotten how when beholden to such a breathtaking vista.

The first droplet landed upon the shoulder of a lifeless little girl, who had been cut down for attempted escape. The bead of glowing fluid spread across the surface of the child's body, removing every trace of injury that it touched. When it had fully enveloped her in a thin gold film, it receded into her cold skin.

And then...

A cough.

A breath.

The first one taken since the miracle was cast.

And then another.

A third breath.

The child opened her eyes and pushed herself into a sitting position.

"Rita!" A woman shouted. Teardrops inexhaustibly fell down her bruised cheeks. She broke away from the group, scrambling towards to the girl.

"Mommy?" The child turned her head. "Mommy!" She exclaimed as she saw her mother running to her.

The two locked into a tight embrace, the mother holding her child so firmly for fear of losing her once again.

Golden droplets continued to rain, landing upon the deceased villagers.

One by one, they rose, as if waking from a dreamless slumber.

One by one, the taken were returned.

One by one, families became whole once again.

Many more broke from the group to meet their revived loved ones.

The village chief stared slack-jawed at the sheer impossibility of this situation.

"So, what do you think?" Skarlett spoke. "I hope what I have done is appropriate in your culture."

The man still simply stared ahead in disbelief, as if his ears lost their function.

' _Annoying… Sure, Super Tier spells like this are usually pretty flashy, but it's like they've never seen a res before._ '

"A God…" Those were the first words that left the man's mouth. "Are you a God?"

"...Eh?" Was the only response Skarlett could muster after hearing such an outrageous statement. "I-"

One of the men who remained in the circle prostrated himself towards Skarlett. Then another. Then another.

Soon enough, almost everyone kowtowed at their savior. Even the resurrected, in their groggy confusion, followed their peers and lowered their heads.

"A God of Light..." Another man chimed in.

"God saved us…" A woman joins in.

"God…" More whispering voices filled the air.

"Mister Skar… A God…" Enri's voice unmistakably emanated from beyond the sea of awestruck voices.

…

Enri, like everyone else in Carne, had never been very religious. Their humble village had simply never been rich or populous enough to attract the attention of wandering missionaries.

In fact, Carne's only source of faith came from Enri's own grandpa, with his wondrous yet rambling stories of the blessed heroes of old and their impossible feats and how the gods saved humanity.

And yet, his stories were just that. Stories. Fables. Fairy Tales of a bygone era.

If the divine ever did exist, then it likely did not exist anymore, as Enri had never experienced the faintest hint of a miracle in her life. Nothing, large or small.

There was no miracle to heal Nemu when she became terribly sick during a particularly cold winter. Her family had to work extra hard so that she could eat more to get better.

There was no miracle to help her father when a windstorm blew down a tree onto her family's home. He had to repair the roof by hand.

There was no miracle to stop the drunken bandit from killing her grandpa. All they could do was bury his body and move on.

The closest thing to a miracle that she ever saw was her childhood friend's potions. Even then, he told her that they were simply made by putting plants and sometimes magic together. Like how a cook makes meals by putting vegetables and meat together. Faith had nothing to do with it.

Faith did not save her grandpa. Faith would not save her. Work would. And work she did.

As soon as she was able to, she worked as hard as she could for her family. For mom. For dad. For Nemu. For herself.

Day in, day out, she toiled the farmlands with her father to make sure no one went hungry.

Day in, day out, she drew water from the well and carried it back herself to make sure no one went thirsty.

Her daily life consisted of nothing but physical labour, but it had already done more good for her than any of her grandpa's wild stories.

But now… Now she finally understood her eccentric grandpa. She understood why he had been so adamant in his beliefs and became so enlivened whenever he spoke of faith. Enri only understood because she herself witnessed one herself.

A true miracle... One so splendorous that it had brought tears to her eyes.

Golden drops, like tears shed by the heavens themselves, made the dead live once more.

Her mom... Her dad... They were alive again.

There was a god in this world. And she was the first to meet him.

…

"Mister Skar?" The little girl holding Enri's hand said curiously. She looked around herself, wearing a confused expression, likely wondering why everyone else was on their knees. After a couple of moments, her look changed to one of joy. "Mister Skar! You saved us! Thank you so much thank you!" She was jumping with joy.

' _Nemu? Was that the kid he saved earlier?_ ' He thought. ' _So half an hour passed already._ '

Her sister held a different air. She, while discernibly happy, did not say much at all. Instead, her body trembled, but only barely.

When she had finally noticed that Skar's eyes were upon she and her sister, Enri mirrored the others and put herself and Nemu into a position of worship.

Enri and Nemu were not his primary concern, however.

Skarlett was taken aback by what the villagers had called him, but only for a moment.

' _Was this… acceptable?'_ He mused. ' _I mean, it's by all means better to be seen in an overly positive light than a negative one, but… Well, to be honest, I'm already deified by the NPCs. What's wrong with a couple hundred more faithful? And in the end, I still fulfilled my objective of establishing positive relations with these people.'_

Though, the nature of this positive relationship was not like anything he had actually planned for. But that wasn't something that he would ever admit.

Skarlett was prepared to play along with this and then defer this entire situation to Pontiff Sylvan. He was a man of faith, the leader of Tier Raid's only religion to be exact, so Sylvan would be able to handle this situation much more capably than he himself ever could.

"Ahem… All of you may rise. Whilst I am humbled by your response, it would be most helpful if what I've done for you was never spoken of to outsiders."

"But Sir Pala- er your holiness-" The village chief stumbled.

"Skar. Call me Skar. And discretion is the only payment I will ask of your Carne village."

Skarlett's brain worked in overdrive to formulate logically flowing reasoning as he spoke. If one could personify what's occurring in his head, it would be a locomotive operator laying down tracks for a train. One that the operator himself is currently riding on at full speed. It was a haphazard situation to be sure, but Skarlett has had much practice in these dangerous arts, especially over the past few days.

"This is for your own good. If other people learned of my existence, then your village may come in danger again because of it."

"Yes. Of course, Sir Skar-sama. You know far more than us. But what will we do if another group of men like that comes again?"

' _... Shit._ '

By showing kindness and extreme power, these people now seem to expect this from him. He could simply say that he won't protect them again, but that would not give him a very amicable response. But he also does not want to simply hand out services for free. Should he collect offertories? Would they be offended by that?

'Wait… This could work… Instead of seeing this village as a part of the Kingdom entity, he could simply see Carne as a newly acquired asset of Tier Raid. After all, this was a small border town with little influence. It would be almost impossible for anyone to notice the change in affiliation unless it is openly broadcasted. As a cog in the machine of Tier Raid, Carne would repay these services with whatever use they could provide. Pontiff Sylvan could work with this. Hopefully, he sees this as a gift.'

Another victory for Skarlett.

"Do you have any relatives that had their lives taken by those scoundrels? If so, then I'm sure that you would want to see them again. I can wait."

"Thank you for your concern, but no, your holi- Sir Skar-sama. I was very lucky to not lose anyone." He bowed his head slightly in respect.

"Ah, then we should go and speak in private. Let's let your people embrace their relatives without a foreigner like me watching. I'm sure they'll appreciate that."

"A-as you wish. We can talk in my home, though it may be a bit dirty because of those intruders earlier."

"That's fine. I'm not bothered by things like that." He reassured the man. "But first, I must talk with one of the Taskmasters. Please go ahead, I will join you shortly."

"Ah, o-of course." The village chief replied. With those words, he left for his home. It was the slightly larger one near the center of the village. Like the rest, it showed mild exterior damage but an unknown amount of interior destruction.

' _Now, to call the Pontiff._ ' He could already imagine the beatific smile on Sylvan's face.

* * *

Author's notes: Uhhhhh so… All I can say is I'm really sorry. For the delays, of course. The simpler reason for the huge amount of time between the last chapter and this one is steam summer sales.

The slightly more complex reason is this. The more that I try to write, the more I realize that it's hard for me to make it a primary activity instead of a secondary hobby. I would like to say that, while the times between my chapters will probably continue to be irregular and long, I will not abandon this undertaking until it's done.

Once again, thank you for your patience. I hoped that this chapter did not disappoint too much.

.

.

.

Name: Mister Skehlatol

.

Title: Cursed Trumpeteer of the Abyss

.

Alignment: Great Evil I Karma: -500

Racial Level:

Skeleton (Level 4)

.

Job Level:

Jester (Level 4)

Bard (Level 7)

Choreographer (Level 3)

Dancer (Level 1)

.

Racial Level (4) + Job level (15) = 19

.

Stats:

HP: 11

MP: 9

PHYS ATK: 8

PHYS DEF: 12

AGI: 8

MAG ATK: 15

MAG DEF: 15

RES: 10

SPECIAL: 10

SPOOKINESS: 100

CALCIUM: 100

.

Total: 98


	9. Ch 6: Beyond Divinity

"The ascension to servitude is a harsh one, to be sure,

For these positions of honor must not be flung into the horde to be grasped by the dirty, filth-ridden hands of the unworthy,

No. Those who seek to serve must rise!

Rise above the tumultuous masses!

Rise beyond the threshold of insignificance!

Rise towards the nigh unreachable perfection that our Lords so deserve!

Those without inapposite sway shall be built into exemplary pillars that our Lords may stand upon!

Those who are tainted yet willing shall rejoice!

For even they may rise to blessed servitude when their minds are purified to become like the Tabula Rasa of the pureborn child!"

Chapter 6: Beyond Divinity

A group of armored men rode quickly along an unmaintained dirt road. The hooves of their horses flicked only a small amount of dust in the air with each step. Yet, with almost fifty sprinting at near full speed, the pinches of dust accumulated into a hazy brown cloud behind them.

While the only obstacle that lay between the previous village and the next was a small woodland, the path threading through it was both narrow and winding. Though their horses were almost at their limits, they should still be able to cross the distance between here and Carne without rest. However, it would still be a while before these they would arrive.

"Warrior-Captain!" One of the men near the head of the pack yelled towards the very front. "They've already put twenty-eight villages to the torch in less than ten days! From how much and how quickly they've done this, we're likely going to face a warparty of over 200 strong! Shouldn't we request for reinf-"

"There's no time for that Vice-Captain!" The man leading the group replied loudly, though even his baritone voice was only barely audible against the din of their galloping mounts. "Every day we wait, three more will burn! Besides, the nobles will see that action as a sign of my own weakness and will gain more leverage against our king!"

"But!-"

"We are both of common birth, are we not?!"

The Vice-Captain nodded without a word.

"Then the both of us should know that living in a village is living next to death, is it not?!"

Again, the Vice-Captain silently agreed.

"Then both of us know what we must-" His words suddenly stopped as he caught a sudden bright glimmer in his peripheral vision. "All eyes forward!"

Beyond the group, far past where the treeline began, the sky above where the village should be was suffused with a golden luminescence. It was as if a large portion of the heavens were flooded with pure honey.

' _What's happening in that village?_ ' Gazef asked himself.

Magic capable of causing visual disturbances of this magnitude were terrifying indeed. Unfortunately, he, a warrior who focused on training his body rather than his mind, did not hold any knowledge pertaining to the existence of such a spell.

What he did know, however, was that Baharuth knights by themselves were simply incapable of painting that golden sky.

' _Who could have caused this?_ '

It mattered not. He, the Warrior-Captain, must face it as the infallible and fearless representative of the Re-Estize Kingdom.

"Push your horses, men! We must move quickly!" Gazef shouted as he snapped the reins of his steed. "Faster! We can't let them escape again!"

' _Twenty-eight villages in ten days…_ ' He contemplated the Vice-Captain's words. Gazef had strong doubts that they were dealing with mere knights. ' _If there truly were over 200 of them, then this level of destruction is such a short amount of time was possible. But a warparty of that size shouldn't be capable of traveling between villages at that speed. The only sensible explanation was that the Knights had talented magical aid…_ '

Gazef once again casted his eyes towards the unexplainably golden sky. ' _A spell of this magnitude… Magic capable of assisting the travel of hundreds of men… That's right. Who else could it have been but him? If there was one spellcaster in the world who could have caused all of this, then it would have to be_ _ **him**_ _.'_

"That old man…" Gazef clenched his teeth.

...

Nearly an hour had passed when Gazef and his cadre finally broke through the treeline. Gazef did not have high hopes, however, as the sky had stopped glowing long before they reached their destination.

And yet, his heart was lifted as he cast his eyes upon Carne.

"The villagers… They're all still alive." One of his men blurted out.

' _But how? The enemy was all but confirmed to be heading to Carne next, and they certainly had a significant head start on us._ '

While Gazef should have felt glad, the sight of the lively villagers perplexed him and, by the baffled tone of the chatter behind him, the rest of his men. The villagers, in contrast, casually walked, talked, and toiled within Carne, as if it the golden sky had never appeared above them.

Peering more closely in at Carne, Gazef suddenly noticed something he had missed earlier. The buildings. More accurately, the state of the buildings. While it was not obvious at a cursory glance, the homesteads and halls looked to be in various stages of damage ranging from ruffled thatching to broken doors and shattered windows.

' _An illusion? A trap?_ ' There were several other plausible explanations for this, and his intuition told him that he was completely safe.

His senses had yet to betray him.

Gazef signaled for his men to continue at a more cautious pace, approaching the village in a way that should not alarm the villagers. If the knights and that old man did come through this Carne, then another group of armed horsemen galloping towards the village would likely trigger the villagers to go into another panic.

As they rode towards the village, Gazef contempled.

An optimistic thought emerged. ' _Maybe those butchers were aware that we were close behind and beat off a retreat before they could start the massacre._ '

Closer now to Carne, the residents seemed have noticed them and, as Gazef had expected, hurried back into their homes.

' _At least they're safe now._ ' Gazef hoped, but just as he was about to let out a sigh of relief, several groups of armor-clad men appeared from within the larger buildings of the village.

They were large — standing over a head taller than most of the scurrying villagers. These mysterious soldiers were clad from head to toe in shining metal, donning full suits of thick plate armor that made them look even more imposing than any Baharuthian legionnaire could ever hope to be. Each of them carried various armaments. Some held two-handed weapons such as greatswords, warhammers, and pole-axes, whilst others carried swords, maces, and flails in one and and kite shields in the other.

In mere moments, a battlegroup of over thirty strong emerged and formed defensive positions between the village and Gazef's group. There may be even more of them lying in wait.

' _Damnit!'_ Gazef wanted to curse. ' _Was this a trap after all?_ '

The group was unidentifiable, bearing no recognizable insignias or emblems upon their armor. If they were from the Empire, they did not not intend to show it. This was unexpected, as the reports Gazef had been given prior to departing had explicitly stated that they were hunting after confirmed Empire affiliates.

Their perfectly uniform suits of armor looked to be of expert make, so they could not simply have been a ragtag group of adventures or a gang of did not seem to give off even a hint of bloodlust, meaning that they were either extremely well trained, or did not plan to commit aggressive actions. Both statements could be true.

Gazef had to take the risk.

With a wave of his hand, he signaled his warriors to stop before the defensive line rather than to charge or retreat. If this unknown warband were truly neither the butchers nor from the Empire, then arbitrarily attacking them without just cause would spell even more trouble for the Kingdom.

Gazef turned his horse, making sure that its head would not obstruct unknown knights' view.

"—I am the Warrior-Captain of the Re-Estize Kingdom, Gazef Stronoff. By order of the King, I have been visiting each of the frontier villages to exterminate knights from enemy countries who have been making trouble he-"

Without warning, the silent knights simultaneously moved their left arms towards their chests, making an singular loud CLACK as their fists met their breastplates.

The Warrior-Captain's silently clenched his teeth. ' _A warning? A threat? A salute?_ ' While he was familiar with many different gestures that were often made amongst both nobles and commoners, Gazef had never before witnessed a gesture exactly like this. Unsure of himself, he remained silent and slowly shifted his hand towards the hilt of his sword.

*THOMP*

Another sound, this time from the simultaneous stomp of their right feet.

"Knights of the Eternal Cathedral, part!" A stuffy voice came from behind the opaque wall of armored bodies.

' _Knights of the Eternal Cathedral? So these are religious warriors then. Were they from the Theocracy? No, this group did not seem to be a part of one of their sects._ '

Responding to the voice, the line of Cathedral Knights parted from the center of their neat formation in perfect unison, revealing the presence of a plump woman. No, plump did not do well to describe her. Obese was a much more suitable label.

This woman, a head shorter the knights she stood beside, was dressed in a plain black habit. On her head was a large black chapeau, with embroidery stitched in a slightly lighter thread. Covering the top half of her face above her nose was a small metal mask, whose color gave away its brass composition. In her gloved hands, which were a sterile white in contrast to her hat and habit, was large mace-staff and a thick, aged tome.

Her lips curved into a slight, silent smile.

"Ahem," Gazef cleared his throat. "Are you the leader of this group?" While she looked completely human, Gazef felt something rather off emanating from her. He could hear nervous shifting coming from behind him, which likely meant that his men felt something similar.

"Ooohohohoho!" With a hand covering her mouth, the masked woman gave out a thick, hearty laugh, one that would usually fill people with a sense of warmth. However, all Gazef felt coming from her was frigid nothingness. "Oh me oh my. Do I truuuly look so special? I am quite honored." Her voice was of a stuffy tenor, which only amplified her image as a rotund woman. "But no, I am not the one in charge. The one you are seeking is he."

Two other figures emerged from behind the Cathedral Knights.

One was a pale man with a light build, wearing ornate robes on his thin body and a mitre upon his head. He had straight, blond hair that went an inch past his shoulders. His eyes were held like slits and his mouth showed a consistent, lips-only smile.

' _A religious leader of sorts?_ ' Gazef shifted his eyes to the left of the smiling man. ' _And his champion?_ '

Beside him was a giant of a man, if he could even be considered human at all. Dwarfing the already tall knights, this individual effortlessly carried forth an overwhelmingly powerful presence. The colossal paladin was covered from head to feet in thick plate armor of silver and gold. He, like the knights surrounding him, wore a helmet that covered the entirety of his face. A suitably massive greathammer rested on his shoulders.

Both taller and broader than his comrades, it wouldn't be odd to assume that he was not entirely human. Perhaps he was born of mixed blood with a larger race of humanoids, though that was nothing but idle speculation. Indeed, it is still more than possible that the man towering in front of him was entirely human, as Gazef has known a few otherwise normal humans who had grown to be much taller and stronger than their peers. Yes, a certain manly looking woman that he had once dueled during the Grand Tournament immediately crossed his mind.

' _Perhaps he was one of her types._ '

"Please be at ease," The pale man's voice was both soothing and mellow. "I don't believe you have come to harm this village. Is this my faith in this belief well placed?"

"Yes." Gazef replied in earnest. "In fact, our mission is to eliminate a group of knights that have been roving about the rural area and massacring towns like this."

"Hmmmmm." The smiling man placed a hand on his right cheek. "Then you have arrived a bit too late. Fortunately for the residents of Carne, we spotted commotion along our travels and discovered that the village was beset by some rather well-armed raiders. Of course, since we had only one option to take, we came to the aid of the villagers and, as you can see, succeeded in removing the ruffians."

Gazef's eyes widened.

"If that's the case, then I have no words that can adequately express my gratitude. Thank you for saving this village. I am sure that my king will generously compensate your gr-"

"Come now, helping those in need is a reward unto itself, is it not?"

Gazef wholeheartedly agreed with that statement, however-. "Yes, but what you've done is no small favor. If you are in need of anything, please feel free to tell me."

"Hmmmm." The pale man's head tilted slightly to the side. "Now that you mention it, there is something I wish to ask of you, Warrior-Captain Gazef."

So it seemed that the pale man did hear Gazef's introduction to the portly woman.

"Of course. I am listening."

"Yes, if you could, please join us in the village. From the way your steeds are panting, it seems that you have travelled long and far to get here. It would do no harm for you to rest a little before departing. And, of course, I am quite sure that you have many questions for us, so let us sit and speak within the comforts of this beautiful little hamlet." He smoothly motioned behind him, his face effortlessly holding the cheerful smile as he spoke.

Gazef looked around him. This offer did not seem like a trap, and refusing hospitality may create some tension between the Kingdom and this strange group. As always, he shall act accordingly as the representative of the Kingdom.

With a quick motion of his left arm, Gazef signaled his men to stand down. However, he did not give the order to be at ease. While the group seemed to be telling the truth, he could not shake off a vague sense of danger.

"I accept your proposition, mister..."

"Ah how rude of me!" The thin man spoke apologetically. "I am Sylvan, Pontiff Sylvan." The Pontiff took a slight bow. "And this would be our champion. Our greatest Paladin, the Holy-Captain of our order, if you would." He motions towards the paladin, who also took a very slight bow. "Now then, please come with us."

And so Gazef followed the two.

As if on cue, the formation of knights dissolved as they returned back to the village, resuming their previous duties. The warriors on the other hand dismounted from their horses and settled down, though they still remained in a tight group.

As they strolled into the village, Gazef could see the villagers starting to come out of their homes with relieved expressions.

' _It seems that they were suspicious of us after all._ '

"Ah, Warrior-Captain," Pontiff Sylvan said as he leisurely strolled in front of him. "If you have any urgent questions pertaining to our encounter with the raiders, please feel free to ask the Holy-Captain. He is sure to be more helpful than I as he led the charge against them." Gazef felt the respect in Sylvan's voice when he was talking about the Paladin standing beside him. The Pontiff was not alone in this, as Gazef noticed stray glances coming from the villagers towards the Holy-Captain, all of them filled with… reverence it seems. Even more so than Gazef towards his own king.

"Thank you. Indeed, I do have several questions for the Holy-Captain-dono." The Paladin turned his head towards Gazef as he spoke.

"Ask away, Warrior-Captain Gazef." The Holy-Captain spoke. His voice was rich and deep, blessed with an unmistakable essense of confidence and valour. It was no wonder that everyone seemed to look up to the giant of a man. He was simply someone who could command those feelings through his voice alone.

"Mmh, of course. First off, you're a religious group, correct?"

The Holy-Captain answered immediately.

"Yes."

"Do you hail from the Holy Kingdom west of Re-Estize?"

"No."

"Then the Slane Theocracy?"

"No." His answers were brief and stern, giving little to draw upon. The man did not seem to be especially talkative. Gazef should have asked more directly from the beginning.

"Then," Gazef spoke with a more formal tone. One more fitting of a Warrior-Captain. "From which nation does your group hail from?"

The towering man remained silent for a brief period. It seemed like he was either formulating a lie, or judging if the truth was an appropriate answer. From the aura Gazef felt coming off of him, the Holy-Captain did not seem to be a liar.

"We hail from a far away land." His voice carried neither doubt nor a shade of deceit. It answered Gazef's question, but it was not what he wanted to hear.

"Ahem, could you elaborate?"

"No. I do not believe that revealing that information would affect this exchange. And for the anonymity and safety of our home, I will speak no further on this subject matter. However, I swear to you and your kingdom will not be threatened by this excursion." All of his statements somehow felt like unquestionable truths, and Gazef did not wish to pry further.

So long as they were not the enemy, where they came from was indeed irrelevant. In fact, the reason for Gazef's questioning were to help establish amicable relations with their nation. However, if they wish to remain unknown, then so be it.

The three men had arrived at the village square, where several wooden tables and chairs had been set up.

"Ah, here we are." Sylvan stated.

Not wasting a moment, the Holy-Captain pulled out two chairs from the opposite sides of a table set with finery and made a gesture to the Pontiff and Gazef to sit.

After they sat down, the Holy-Captain pulled out two chairs for himself and placed them side by side before joining them at the table.

"Our Evangelist is preparing the tea. She'll be done shortly." The Pontiff's warm smile widened. "For now, do you have any more questions for the Holy-Captain?"

"I do." Gazef turned to face the Paladin on his right. "The raiders... did they wear any form of insignia?"

The Holy-Captain crossed his arms and put a gauntleted hand to his chin. "Hmmmm, Yes. If i remember correctly, they each wore an emblem resembled two winged lions on their breastplates."

' _So they were knights of the empire. And to think that they would refer to those professional soldiers as mere raiders… This group of holy men, while small, was likely a formidable force._ '

"Did you by any chance see any magic casters within their ranks?"

"No. All of them were men in full plate armor. If there was a magic user disguised among the soldiers, then they did not cast any spells to give themselves away."

' _So the old man wasn't there… Then the ones that caused the sky to turn gold was…_ '

"Are all members of your party capable of casting holy magic?"

"Indeed, all of us are capable of some form of holy magic."

"Then… did one of you two cause the sky to turn gold for some time an hour ago?" Gazef felt nervous asking about this. A spell of this magnitude was likely a nation's trump card, just as the Kingdom's treasures were to Re-Estize. Asking the wrong questions may create unwanted tension.

To Gazef's dismay, the Holy-Captain's helmet moved backwards, though only slightly. It was the slightest flinch. One that only Gazef and a select few others with keen senses could detect.

It was an undeniable sign of surprise.

A bead of cold sweat ran down Gazef's brow.

' _If it truly was something they wished to remain hidden, then I may have to swear an oath of confidentiality, one that they may not accept. If the worst comes to worst, then I must be prepared fight my way out of the village. And from the way these people conduct themselves, they appear confident in their skills._ '

None of his options were particularly attractive. Gazef furtively prepared his body to make quick movements. His legs to sprint and his arms to unsheathe his sword. He did not want to harm people who held no ill will towards the Kingdom, but he must survive, not for himself but for his king.

"You do not have to prepare to do anything rash Warrior-Captain." The Holy-Captain broke the silence. He had noticed Gazef's minute shifts in posture. He was an experienced fighter. "The reason why I remained silent was because I was taken aback that you had seen that spell. I knew that it would illuminate an area, but I never would have guessed that someone an hour away on horseback could see it."

"So your group did cast that enormous spell."

"Yes. It was a healing spell to help the villagers." His tone once again bolstered the sense that he is telling the truth.

"Ah, I'm glad that that your people had the magical prowess to pool your mana together to relieve the villagers. I'm once again deeply thankful for your actions."

The Pontiff's smile widened even further in response to Gazef's words and nodded.

"I only have a few more questions left."

"Oh my." The Pontiff exclaimed in calm shock. "But the tea hasn't even been served yet. I must ask you to stay at least until you and your men have rested, even if it's only for another short while."

His offer was voiced gently and held no fragments of sinister ulterior motives.

"...Yes." Gazef replied. "I will accept your kind offer. Since the war party from the Baharuth Empire has been defeate-" An alarming realization flashed across Gazef's mind.

' _Wait… Even if the Empire's knights had been routed, they could still be out there, massacring entire villages if we linger in Carne._ '

Gazef quickly stood up from his seat, pushing himself up using the table and inadvertently disturbing the gleaming silverware and porcelain platters.

"What could be troubling you, Warrior-Captain?" Sylvan inquired.

"The knights that you defeated, how many of them survived?" Urgency filled Gazef's voice.

"None." The Paladin sternly replied. "All were cut down for their crimes against the innocents."

Gazef sighed a breath of relief and sat himself back down onto the chair.

"And you needn't call them knights. No true knight could commit such an atrocity."

Gazef smiled to himself. ' _Ah, so the Holy-Captain was that kind of man. One who is truly righteous and caring towards the weak. One who does not shy from punishing those they determine to deserve punishment._ '

"Then, I have one last question for you. What do you intend to do now? I do not know where you are travelling to nor where you come from, but I do wish to know what you intend to do next."

"Hmmm, I believe the Pontiff would be more suitable at answering this question."

"Indeed." Pontiff Sylvan responded. "If you must know, we are planning to stay in the village for a while before heading back to our home. The villagers were kind enough to host us for a short while while we keep this village under our protection. Do you by chance disapprove of this action?"

"Ah, of course not. If the villagers willingly comply to your request, then I will do nothing to go against their wishes."

"Glorious. In that case we will soon have tea and-"

"Pontiff-Sylvan-sama!" A man yelled out. He approached them at full sprint, his patched clothing giving away his identity as a simple villager.

' _Trouble?'_

"Masked-" Out of breath, he barely wheezed out simple phrases with pauses between every few words. "Masked men. Surrounding us. Danger."

The Pontiff raised a finger to shush the man. "Now now my friend, please catch your breath. I am sure that your message warrants quick delivery, but articulation is still second to none in importance for bearing messages."

"Hah, hah, haaaaaah…" The villager exhales deeply one last time before catching his breath. "Masked men have surrounded the village and are approaching I speak. Your knights sent me to bring word as they were busy preparing the defenses."

The pontiff's smile drooped, but only slightly. "Well, that certainly is unfortunate. Thank you, good man. If you would, please inform the rest of the villagers of this threat and tell them to take shelter in the largest building within Carne and barricade the doors. My deacons shall assist you in this task and keep watch over the shelter. Once the danger has passed, they will notify you."

With the Pontiff's orders — no, it was worded more like a request — given, the man bowed and wordlessly hurried away.

Sylvan turned to face Gazef. "Do you by any chance know what that messenger was talking about? Perhaps more of your kingdom's men?"

Gazef shakes his head. "No. Unfortunately not, Pontiff Sylvan. There should not be any other groups nearby other than the Baharuth Knights you have fought with earlier."

"Ah, then I must apologize to you, Warrior-Captain. Unfortunately, it seems that I cannot provide you with proper hospitality this time around. I believe that the Holy-Captain and I must prepare to defend this village."

"You needn't apologize. If these masked men are indeed enemies of the Kingdom, then my men and I will intercept them before they can enter Carne. I must go and make sure my men are ready for battle."

The Pontiff's lips creased upwards. "Splendid, Warrior-Captain! Then, if you would, please meet with us in that house near the border of the village when you are finished." The Pontiff pointed to an unassuming cabin on the southern edge of Carne. "We shall discuss our plans in greater detail there, if you do not object, of course."

"I do not." Gazef replied.

"Very good! Now then, let us act quickly." The perpetually happy man smiled.

…

"I can see them now. They're slowing their advance towards Carne even though they're still quite a ways away." Gazef simply spoke out what he saw.

Gazef had only peeked out of the window for a fraction of a moment, making sure to not get spotted by those who could be looking back towards the village. The house itself was quaint yet quite pristine, with the only signs of damage being its wooden front door covered in deep gashes both along and against the grain of its planks. It was, as the Pontiff had said, situated just at the edge of the village, giving them a beneficial vantage point.

The mysterious, robed intruders looked to be both unarmed and unarmored, though appearances can be incredibly deceiving. One could easily hide a variety of weapons and lighter armor under their poncho-like robes.

Of course, these assumptions assumed that they actually needed physical armaments. Given from several obvious signs Gazef noticed, the men surrounding the village were magic casters of sorts. These men, who were capable of calling upon powers inaccessible to most, did not favor equipment that would weight the down.

And those obvious signs?

The first and most foremost of which stood or, more accurately, floated right alongside them.

Angels.

Monsters summoned from a different plane of existence. These ones, basking in the fiery glow coming from their own brilliant blades, were believed to be messengers of the gods by the people of the Slane Theocracy, but were thought of more or less as summoned monsters by most other nations.

Gazef had some experience cutting down summoned creatures like these, though a specific detail bothered him.

He had never seen this type of angel before. Without the vital experience of facing these things before, he would not know how to counter their strengths and abilities before combat began.

"Angels…" Gazef muttered.

"My, my, how observant." The corpulent Evangelist spoke in a thick tenor timbre. While her voice could be described as jolly, though her words seemed to be inflected with coy undertones. "Men with good eyes are much too rare nowadays."

The combination of her words and tone forced a strange feeling of apprehension to start stirring within him. The woman sat to his right at the round table. Along with them were the Pontiff, who sat opposite of Gazef, and the Holy-Captain, who sat to his left.

"Yes, good Warrior Captain, those are most certainly angels." The Pontiff agreed. "And the men who stand beside them are most certainly men of faith. Priests devoted to their… gods." The ends of his lips creased upwards ever so slightly. "And what say you, my most honored and sacred champion?"

"I must concur." The massive Paladin nodded. "Not only are they angels, but they appear to be Archangel Flames."

"Archangel Flames?" Gazef thought out loud. "I have yet to encounter any summoned creatures of that name.

The Holy-Captain's head jerked up ever so slightly, though he remained silent. While he could not see the man's face from under his helmet, Gazef could feel a judgemental stare being cast upon him.

"Ah, do not worry about those." The Holy-Captain finally spoke. "That type of angel can be… Formidable... But I am sure that the Kingdom's Warrior-Captain will have little trouble handling them."

"I hope that you're right, Holy-Captain-dono." While the Paladin's words reassured him, he still could not help but feel uneasy.

"But of course he is correct, Warrior-Captain. He is but the greatest and most knowledgeable amongst the best of us." Pontiff Sylvan casted a respectful nod towards his captain.

Seeing this, Gazef could not help but be reminded of the magnanimity of his own king, who himself was very kind towards Gazef. Indeed, like his king, Pontiff Sylvan treated his right-hand man with more respect than a subordinate would usually expect. Gazef smiled as he is glad that someone in a similar position as himself was being treated with such kindness.

"How should we deal with them?" Gazef asked.

The Pontiff answered. "Hmmmm, while this is your kingdom's sovereign territory, thus making it entirely your kingdom's responsibility to handle a situation such as this, we are also obligated to protect the villagers who have so generously offered to host us. This of course, means that we shall participate in combat alongside you, Warrior-Captain." He grinned. "What say you, my great champion?"

"Once again, I must concur. It would be most irresponsible of us to let the men of the Kingdom fight on their own."

As he heard those words, Gazef pulled away from the table and gave them both a deep bow. "I must thank you, the both of you. Once again, I promise to repay you for your services to the greatest extent that I am capable."

"Oh hohohoho!" The Evangelist laughed whilst covering her mouth with a white-gloved hand. "Oh me oh my. You truly are a rare breed of man, Gazef-kun."

As if on instinct, his body trembled slightly and a bead of cold sweat ran down his brow. Inexplicably, Gazef body seems to subconsciously react negatively to anything the masked woman says or does. It was as if his instincts told him that something was very wrong with her, yet all he could see was an overweight, yet otherwise normal, woman.

"I must concur." The Paladin added. "Men of such high rank who retain their respect for others are painfully sparse. Most even treat their peers as if they were a rank below. However! Enough with such idle talk. We must plan for interception!" The Holy-Captain voice, which had carried little emotion in its words, suddenly lit up with excitement.

In fact, it was not just his voice that showed anticipation for what was to come. His entire body seemed to have perked up to his own announcement. Gazef was suddenly reminded of someone he had fought before. ' _He must be quite enthralled with combat ike that Unglaus fellow._ '

…

' _Mmmmmh, Sylvan and a cohort of his Cathedral Knights coming on such short notice made this whole operation so much less stressful._ ' Skar smiled underneath his greathelm. Indeed, those words could not be truer.

Just as he saw himself as the head of the corporation "Tier Raid", he saw Pontiff Sylvan as one of the many managers working under him. And as a dutiful manager should, he held a flexible enough schedule to assist his higher-ups whenever possible by rallying those below him, the senior wage-earners or, in this case, the Cathedral Knights. The Pontiff also brought along a type of Evangelist, whose role on his floor was most akin to that of someone from the Human Resources department.

Being the respectable company men that they were, the Pontiff and his subordinates arrived at the village within a minute of the **[Message]** ending. Within five, they diffused any remnants of unease within the village. Within ten, they had cleaned up the most rubble-covered areas of Carne. Within an hour, it seemed that they had effortlessly converted the inhabitants into loyal and fervent followers of whatever peculiar religion the Pontiff was in charge of.

And with zealous devotion and inscrutable work ethic, the covert acquisition of the 'Carne Village' asset was complete.

Well, covert enough for the newcomers to not notice the shift in alignment at least.

The men of Re-Estize Kingdom came swiftly yet expectedly on horseback. Thanks to the ever-expanding Absolute Control Zone, eyes and ears were upon the group as soon as they stepped foot into the surrounding forest.

The leader of the group, Gazef the Warrior-Captain, seemed to be a reasonable man leaning rather heavily on the side of naive. Acquiring him as an asset, while it would assist in building public relations with non Tier Raid 'employees', his loyalties seem too rigid to convert safely. The rest of his gang was not even worthy of consideration.

The next group however-

"Oi, Holy-Captain-dono!" Gazef suddenly approached him. They had finished their discussion within the cramped hut and were just about to ride out. "Are you ready to commence the attack?"

"Mhh, yes." Skar replied. While Gazef in no way surprised him, his sudden voice did annoyingly interrupt his train of thought.

"You were standing rather still for a while. Were you meditating?"

"Indeed." Skar replied without hesitation, forcing every word coming from his mouth to sound like indisputably pure truth.

"Hah, then we are much alike. I try calm my nerves before battle as well. Too much excitement going in can be dangerous."

"I agree." Skar nodded. Gazef's words were true even in Yggdrasil. Calming one's nerves before facing raid bosses was important as the heady rush from high-risk PvE can make great communicators mute and great listeners deaf. Many groups wiped simply because certain key members could not control their emotions during their endeavors.

Skar's opinion of Gazef rose a notch. While his thoughts on him were generally neutral or slightly positive, this was the first time he felt the words coming from Gazef's mouth were imbued with some form of wisdom.

"My Cathedral Knights are readied," Sylvan's voice came from behind them, along with the sound of near uniform footsteps coming from the three lines of unmounted Cathedral Knights.

Gazef eyes' twitched for a moment as he cast his gaze upon the Pontiff's retinue before shifting his eyes towards his own men, who sat ready on their horses.

"Holy-Captain, none of your knights are mounted, how can we perform a unified charge if half of our forces will fall behind?" From the tone of Gazef's words, it seemed that he was worried about the achievability of the plan.

"Worry not Warrior-Captain." The Pontiff responded. "My knights will be able to keep up with your warriors. You needn't concern yourself with such things."

While Gazef's expression told Skar that he still held doubt within his mind, it seemed that the Pontiff's words relieved him nonetheless.

"Good, then we shall charge on your call, Pontiff Sylvan."

"Is that so? Then I shall defer this honor to the Holy-Captain." Sylvan replied whilst bowing his head. "Holy-Captain?"

' _Interesting._ ' _Skar mused._ ' _Even when he is playing the role of my superior, he finds ways of deferring more grandiose actions to me. It seems that the intricacies of such gestures do not escape him. Well done._ ' He silently praised the Pontiff.

"If that is the case, then the time to charge is now! Ride on, my brothers in arms! Into the fray and into victory's embrace!" Skar, since he had experience as a raid leader, managed to effortlessly rouse the entirety of the group with a simple mixture of confident-sounding drivel.

With those words, Gazef and his warriors charged forth while letting loose an assortment of noisy battlecries.

The Cathedral Knights behind them also began to run. The first line of knights jumped upwards after taking three steps and held one hand in front of themselves. In an instant, an armored charger took shape underneath each and every one of the Knights. The second line followed. Then the third, the fourth, and finally the fifth. Now mounted upon summoned steeds, the Knights quickly caught up to Gazef's warriors and matched their pace.

Quickly estimating the distance between himself and the shrinking Warrior-Captain, Skar confirmed that they were out of earshot.

"Pontiff Sylvan, stay here with the Evangelist until you see the signal."

"Your wish is my command, oh great Divine Lord." The Pontiff gave a deep, respectful bow. "We shall eagerly await our part within your grand plan."

"Of course. Now, if you'll excuse me…" Skar held his left hand in the air, trying to visualize one of the many mounts he has linked to himself and-

" **[Mount: Glorious Golden Steed of Imperium]!** "

The massive, armored warhorse that he had expected to materialize in front of him appeared. It's fur and mane were as golden as its armor, and had the softness of velvet. As Skar mounted it, a realization struck him. Skar had never actually ridden horses before. While he has experience 'riding'' a plethora of creatures both monstrous and mundane in Yggdrasil, he knew for a fact that riding real animals would not be nearly as easy as riding digital ones.

Gritting his teeth, he snapped the reins of the mount. Along with a sudden jerk and whinny, the majestic war horse galloped forward at a breakneck pace. While he was almost thrown off by the sudden and extreme acceleration, skar felt strangely comfortable controlling the creature.

A quick field testing was all it took to determine the basic controls. A tug on the left means go left. A tug on the right means go right. A tug upwards means slow down, and a snap of the reins means speed up.

The thing that surprised Skar the most was how smooth riding it felt. There were no jolts going up his spine with every step the creature took. Rather, its perfect stride made the experience akin to sitting on a maglev bullet train.

Confident in his unexpectedly adequate riding skills, Skar reached Gazef's group in mere moments and slowed down to match their pace with a gentle upwards tug. He looked towards the Cathedral Knights following close behind. They were under strict orders to feign weakness. Not to the point of actually dying, but taking a few hits and spending a longer amount of time to kill the enemy in front of them was necessary to maintain the illusion of normalcy and familiarity with Gazef's group. Of course, if Gazef and his warriors performs better than expected, the Knights were expected to tune their act and match them.

In essence, they needed to simply be average, which was a task of unknown difficulty for the level 50 special POPs.

' _Sacrificing Divine-Tier crafting materials for those special guild upgrades might not have been as stupid as I thought._ ' Indeed, several dumbasses of the guild decided that spending Divine-Tier crafting materials on getting useless level 50 POPs to spawn instead of making actually useful armor and weapons was a good idea. If Skar had been an obsessive min maxer, he probably would have thrown those idiots off Yggdrasil's tallest mountain after witnessing such sacrilegious use of the guild's coffers. Strength over style was simply the foundation for most Yggdrasil players, unless of course they were going for one of those unconventional RP builds.

"Heads up!" Gazef's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Spells incoming!"

Along with Gazef's words came a volley of various low-tier spells which surged past Skar's ears. The ones that managed to hit the warriors produced screams and slumped bodies. The ones that reached the Knights ineffectually bounced off of their armor and shields, diffusing harmlessly into the air.

The spells came from the squad of masked men, each accompanied by an Archangel Flame. Near the back was an unmasked blond-haired man accompanied by a Principality of Observation — A rather unimpressive summon only a single tier higher than those third-tier Archangel Flames.

' _The leader._ ' Skar presumed.

Gazef, who rode beside him, was untouched by the volley. Deftly, he pulled out the bow that was strapped onto the back of his chest plate and loosed an arrow at one of the closer masked men. The soaring projectile only managed to get within half a meter of its target before shattering against a translucent magical barrier.

"A second-tier magical shielding by the looks of it." Skar thought out loud.

"You can tell the spell simply from observation?" Gazef shouted through the noise of galloping steeds.

Skar nodded. Through experiencing these spells multiples times, he eventually learned to recognize them through either their effects, color, sound, or any combination of the three aspects. While some are harder to identify before they actually hit you, shield spells give away their nature through their color and opacity.

"Hmf. These unenchanted arrows won't do anything then." Gazef responded.

Skar nodded once more.

"Then we will spill their guts with our swords!" Gazef took the lead as he snapped the horse into an even faster gallop.

This Stronoff fellow was rather interesting. While the Warrior-Captain seemed hilariously weak from what Skar could gather from his senses, he still felt leagues above the so-called 'Warriors' riding behind him. Skar hoped that he could determine what classes Gazef had from seeing his skill rotations. After all, that was the only reason why he decided to let Gazef lead.

Coming even closer now, he could see the finer details of the Archangel Flames. They had their generic, blocky and almost mechanical forms, unlike the more humanoid angels of their guild — which only looked the way they were due to having some rather pricey skins applied onto them.

The Principality of Observation was also unamusingly generic.

"Second volley incoming!" Gazef shouted.

A second wave of variously colored, glowing projectiles flew towards them.

Once again, the Warriors who were struck fell off their mounts while most of the Knights simply powered onward.

"Hm?" Skar was taken aback. Several of the Knights fell off their steeds and, as they hit the ground, their horses dissipated back into nothingness. ' _Ah, of course, the act.'_ Skar had to give credit where credit is due. It was especially impressive how natural their falling appeared to be. Skar smiled and redirected him vision frontward.

In front of Skar, Gazef's own horse was suddenly struck by a psychic-type spell. It stopped mid-stride and reared up, aggressively bucking and flailing in an effort to unseat its rider. Gazef, through reflexes and strong grip, barely managed to avoid getting thrown off and safely dismounted his rabid steed.

The men who were unaffected by the initial volleys, now led by their Vice-Captain, rode ahead of Gazef and into the fray.

As soon as Gazef's feet touched the ground, the Archangel Flames left the sides of their masked summoners and charged forward. The bulk of them headed straight for Gazef, though they would not be able to reach him without going through some of his men first.

"Guwarg!"

"Hrrng!"

The death throes of the warriors filled the air along with the distinct metallic scent of blood.

The men who faced against the Archangels one on one were quickly and mercilessly cut down while those who fought in groups were stuck in frustrating stalemates as the soaring angels danced effortlessly around their swings.

' _A numerical advantage for them seemed to do little more than grant them bare survival. Flight looked to be a significant advantage for melee combatants._ ' Skar noted. While he had fought a multitude of flying berserkers, paladins, and blademasters, the supposed advantage had never been noticeable in Yggdrasil.

Skar's own forces however…

A fiery angelic blade sizzled uselessly against a Cathedral Knight's shield before having its head caved in by a mace. As the terrible *crunch* reverberated across the battlefield, the archangel's body shattered into infinitesimally small sparkling crystals.

They were beautiful yet fleeting. Just like in Yggdrasil.

Another attempted to charge a greatsword wielding knight but was cut from crown to groin with a swift vertical strike before its weapon could even touch the holy man's armor.

Two zipped towards Skarlett, their forms humming from the air being forced around their bodies as they moved. Since he must hold the image as the leader of those knights, he must thus perform better than his underlings.

"Hyah!" With a deep shout he smashed apart the first with his greathammer. As the second one neared, he raised his free arm to face it.

" **[Holy Fire]!** " A golden blaze erupted from the palm of his gauntlet and engulfed the angel, which disintegrated nearly instantaneously. It was just as he had expected. While holy damage was extremely ineffective against angels, the power differential between Skar and the Archangel brute-forced the elemental disadvantage into submission.

It was clear from this encounter that Skar was in a low risk situation, thus he could afford to put some attention into observing Stronoff. Of course, he couldn't make it obvious. He had his helm facing towards the angels at all times, but his eyes were set towards the direction of the Warrior-Captain who drew his sword to face the oncoming wave of angels.

The bulk of the initial squadron were nearly upon him. Within a moment's time, one will be at arm's length. In the next, many more will be bearing down upon him.

' _So Gazef, what will you do?_ '

With a determined battlecry, the Warrior-Captain met their charge head-on.

The angel swings.

Gazef matched the strike with his own, locking together fire and steel.

Under the rigors of a strenuous swordlock, Gazef grunted as his arms trembled in order to continue applying force. His face told Skar just how much physical strain he was under.

' _Eh…'_ Skar rolled his eyes. ' _If he can't even defeat Archang-_ '

" **[Focus Battle Aura]**!" The Warrior Captain's sword diffused a red hue and, as he shifted his weight on the hilt of his sword, it moved. No. It didn't just move, it cut right through the flaming sword along with its now bisected wielder with little sign of resistance.

"Eh?" Skar unintentionally let out a noise of surprise.

How couldn't he? A low level warrior of some kind using a skill he's never seen or, let alone, heard of before. And an effective one at that. It looked like it increased his striking power twofold at the very least.

A second archangel immediately took the first one's place. It was already mid-swing when Gazef killed the first, which meant that unless he had a defensive skill, he would most certainly take-

" **[Instant Counter]!** " With that utterance, his sword inexplicable sped up to match the angel's own.

No, it was even faster. It cleaved the angel asunder before its own blade could scratch the Warrior-Captain.

' _What the fuck? What skill tree did those come from?_ ' It couldn't have been from anything related specifically to swords, as he himself had seen or have nearly every single one of them. None of the hundreds of guild members that joined and left had either of the two skills Gazef had just used.

' _Was this an exclusive skill set unique to this world?_ '

Gazef's eyes darted around the battlefield. His men were being slaughtered, one after the other. Averting his gaze, the Warrior Captain instead charged forward towards the enemy commander, meeting a flock of heavenly entities head on.

Thirty archangels lie in the way between him and what looks to be his target of interest.

"Out of my way—!" Gazef's blade glowed once more, this time a shimmering gold. Skar could feel the minute rise in temperature coming from Gazef's direction. " **[Sixfold Slash of Light]!** "

Like its namesake, the shimmering blade flew as quickly light itself. In a single stroke, six vertical streaks appeared in the air in front of him— Six broken angels fell in front of him.

All six were cut cleanly in half, slowly dissolving into glimmering shards.

The masked intruders gasped.

Gazef's men cheered.

The angels pressed onward.

" **[Flow Acceleration]!** " Gazef's body suddenly moved many times faster than it had before. "EUGHN! HRAA!" Each loud grunt was accompanied by a swing of his sword. Each swing decisively destroyed another archangel.

"Well done." A new voice entered the fray. This one came from the unmasked enemy commander. "However… that is all you can do. Clerics who have lost your angels, summon new ones. Focus your spells on Stronoff!" The man showed an arrogant toothy grin, which then suddenly turned into a brief look of worry, which struck Skar as somewhat odd.

The enemy commander reached his hand into his robe. It was either out of habit, to grab an object, or to reveal a weapon of sorts.

It did not matter to Skar, as whatever was the man's intentions, it was a suspicious enough of an action.

' _Ah, such good timing mister enemy commander._ ' Skar thought. ' _I've seen enough from Gazef to want to keep him alive. Now that your actions are suspicious enough, I can use you as my scapegoat._ '

And with that, Skar silently cast his spell.

…

The sun was setting, making the shadows long and the brick buildings glow a bright orange. Most people were already in their homes. The market, a bustling and crowded socioeconomic hub during the day, was now made up of empty stalls and streets deserted of human life.

Walking down the street, Lapis always either in the glaring sun or the soothing shade. Which of the two depended on if he was in front of the buildings in the spaces between them.

Glaring discomfort.

Soothing shade.

Glaring discomfort.

Soothing shade.

Glaring discomfort.

Soothing shade.

The alternating pattern went on for some time, but thankfully the shade always lasted longer than the light. It wasn't that Lapis disliked being in the sun. In fact, he his favourite location on Yggdrasil was quite bright and sunny. It was just that intense, low-angled light that always seems to beam directly in his eyes, which annoyed him. Thoroughly.

Lapis was almost home. It was not his home that he was heading towards, but it was one where he was welcomed in.

Walking through the now-familiar streets, Lapis finally reached the building that was the dwarf family's home, workshop, and store.

' _Odd._ ' Was the first word that came into Lapis's head when he neared the front. Even though it was almost night-time, the gaps in the shutter windows were not glowing with candlelight. The weapon display racks and crates filled with arrows and various throwing weapons had not even been brought inside yet.

Most alarming was that the front door itself was slightly ajar.

Something definitely wasn't right.

Lapis took a lowered stance and casted a spell that muted both his footsteps and his presence. He cautiously moved around the building, making sure to keep within the long shadows cast by the falling sun. What we was looking for were any signs of an attack or break-in.

Nothing.

He rounded back to the front and took a closer look through the gap in the door. Using his racial night vision, he swept through the room with his eyes. There was a slight movement in his peripheral vision.

A shudder.

A tremble.

As quickly as he could, he swung open the door, forcing the main room to bask in an orange glow.

"AAAAIIIIIIH!"

"AAAAAAH!" Two high pitched screams came from where the movement was.

At the back of the main room, the sources of the screaming were huddled in fetal positions.

Garik and his son.

"Eh?" Lapis vocalized his confusion. He walked towards the pair.

"HYAHWAHONO s-stay away! We're sorry!" Garik screamed in an uncharacteristically high pitched voice. His son beside him simply rocked back and forth.

"What's going on? Did you get attacked? Robbed? Burgled? Threatened?" Lapis's list went on with only the father and son shaking their head. "Then what?" He said, in a voice strained with mild impatience.

"Oooooh, oooh, M-mister Lazuras. That dagger. Th-th-that dagger…" Garik simply stuttered out those two words over and over like a mantra… until- "Impossible! Inconceivable! Preposterous! Ridicu-"

"Out with it!"

Garik held his breath, his squat body shuddering and his eyes moist. "The dagger ya lent ta us. After w-wiping off the dirt an' grime, it-it jus' shone like no other. Oh gods but it wasn't jus' that. Wh-when I touched the blade it… It felt like… Like divinity." The last word came out of his mouth came out as a whisper, as if he was terrified of the prospect of others hearing it. "No metal, absolutely none that I've ever laid me hands on felt like that."

Lapis's face lit up with shock. He had made a mistake. A major, uncharacteristic mistake. One that came from his negligence and lack of attention to every relevant detail.

The sword came from the Great Jotunheim Forest. While the area was nowhere near max level, the monsters there were certainly many hundreds of times more dangerous that the thugs on the streets. The drops likely showed this difference as well. Compared to what the parading paladin's held to the 'garbage' drop he picked up in the forest… It was like comparing a chunk of coal to a flawless diamond.

And from the looks of it, the dwarf's expression told him that he found a motherload of unimaginable proportions.

"Is that not to your liking then? To work with such a magnificent dagger?"

"M-magnificent? Mister Lazuras, magnificent wouldn't even encompass a single thread wrapped around this-this…." His mouth twisted in strange ways as he was trying to find the word. "Hilt! Oh this treasure musta been godsent!

"If it's so magnificent, then why do you seem so…. Frightened."

"W-well, Mister Lazuras…" Garik stuttered. "If this is jus' your reserves, then what manner of Gods-given blades do ya usually wield? A-and how didja even find a blade of this craftsmanship? How could ya ever leave something as beautiful this covered in dirt and filth?!"

This was not good. Not for Lapis. Not for the dwarves either. One would lose a home while the other their lives. While he was perfectly fine with silencing these gibbering mad men, he still prefered to not have to look for another place to hole up. Or clean up the remains.

So a story then.

"I… I must confess." Lapis spoke with faux nervousness. "Even I did not know of that dagger's worth… I found it quite recently while I was travelling. It was caked in mud when I found it but when I tried wiping it off, I cut my hand." Lapis pointed to the palm of his left hand, which held a scar that came to be when he created his character. "I stopped cleaning it and sheathed it again and never thought of it until this morning." While the tone of his voice was faked to be perfectly genuine...

The story was brittle and suspicious at best. Making up stories on the spot shouldn't have been difficult for Lapis, but his lies usually encompassed more… expected matters.

"O-of course… That's why ye never noticed… It-it makes sense then! Yes! Haha! How could I have been so crazy haha! Oh how could I have believed that someone could have two more weapons of even better make than this hahaha!" Garik chuckled with a mad look on his face while eating up that story.

' _Perhaps the desire to cling on to any sense of normalcy precedes the desire to pursue the truth._ ' Lapis mused. After all, that story was made up on the fly. No normal person would ever believe such drivel. But a broken man looking to mend his image of reality…

"Da'." His son called out to his father. "B-but what abou-"

"Not now Urist!" Garik cut him off. "What Mister Lazuras said makes perfect sense." He chuckled. "Perfect sense." He took several deep breaths to calm himself. "I-I'm sorry for that ruckus. We musta' worried ya somethin' fierce with how it must have looked."

Lapis nodded.

"Mhh…" Garik's eye's shifted towards his son. "Boy! Let's bring in the wares for tonight. Ain't no sane man's bout' to browse the market this late."

"Y-yes pa!" The younger dwarf pushed himself up and hurried outside.

"Now… Mister Lazuras… I must tell you this."

"Hmm?"

"I've cleaned the dagger and saw that tha' blade was flawless, with nary a sign of rusting or impact chipping. I would reckon that it's made of a metal beyond even adamantite!"

Lapis pretended to be impressed by that statement, forcing himself to gasp. "Beyond even adamantite?! Impossible!"

"An' that's what I thought! But my hands di'int deceive me, no no. This blade's fit to be a legendary national treasure. Oh, the things you could do with this beauty! Th-though I wouldn't dare use it meself as it might get dirtied again!"

"Alright... So if I understand correctly, I will never have to worry about money to replace things I can't naturally gather from the land? If that's so, then it would do me better to sell it to someone for an exorbitant price. After all I, a wanderer, have little use for such a fancy weapon. If it manages to sell, I will never run out of coin for my trave-."

"N-no! Please don't sell it!"

"Eh?"

"Er, ehm. I mean, I can't tell you what to do with that blade — It's yours of course— but I don't think that any single man could give you a good price on somethin' of this value. And please don't consider selling this thing to this country. Tha' last thing this nutty Theocracy needs is more power."

Lapis pretended to think hard on this subject, but the answer was already in his mind many moments ago.

"Fine. I'll keep this on me for now. In turn, you and your son will never speak of this to anyone again. Not even to me. Dangerous people could pick up on this and decide that the blood of three is a cheap price to pay to get to this treasure."

"Y-yes! Indeed! Our lips are sealed! I'll tell junior when he's finished cleaning up. You're a real special lad Mister Lazuras. Not jus' anyone could find a blade like this. Perhaps tha' blade called out to ya. Maybe you're destined for somethin' great out there."

"Maybe indeed. I will certainly have to think on that." Lapis spoke as stone-faced as he could, even though he was trying to keep himself from bursting out with laughter. After all, that had to be the most cliché thing he had ever heard.

' _Basing destiny on a vendor-trash quality item._ ' He chuckled in his head. ' _Skarlett needs to hear this one._ '

Lapis nodded and placed a hand on Garik's shoulder.

"Perhaps you're right, Garik. But there is something even more immediate I must ask of you."

"Mh?" Garik looked up at Lapis's face, which still held a stern expression. "What is it lad?"

"Wellll," Lapis let the word drag for several seconds. "Now that you've calmed down… What's for dinner?"

...

This was the epic of Nigun Grid Luin. A proud citizen of the Slane Theocracy, he was born and raised within the sacred walls of the first and greatest bastion of humanity.

The Holy City, founded by the Six Great Gods.

Inherited by those who followed them.

His childhood, like those of others who were born into the families of bishops, was oft filled with soft sheets, warm food, and plentiful playthings. It was a gentle life to be certain, but that did not mean he grew up to be delicate and decadent.

No. He was not weak, for he enrolled at the capital's templar academy in his early years. He was molded under the vigilant tutelage of Father Irenaeus Gran Ficta, a once great warrior of the Sunlight scripture. Past his prime, this veteran sought to teach the next generation of the ways of Light.

Twas a shame that the old man switched to simple priesthood after mentoring for only five years, for there were many others who would have benefited from his teachings. He had even left the Holy City to impart his knowledge elsewhere.

As for decadence, Nigun was no immoral slob either. Just because he was born above the common rabble did not mean he would not contribute to local charities. Sometimes he even went out of his way to so generously give coppers to the poor faithful who were stricken with hard times.

Yes indeed, for in his eyes, he was a generous saint. Unlike some of his peers, he neither partook in frivolous whoring nor mingled with the disgusting inhuman slaves. He was above that. He was truly human. He was humane. He was humanly. He was a part of humanity.

The culmination of his efforts had brought him into the service of the great military of his great nation as a member of the Sunlight Scripture, whose role was to exterminate the filthy demihumans who sought to enslave humanity. He was faithful in his convictions and dedicated to his country. He would kill his fellow man if it was for the greater good of humankind.

After years and years of dedicated service, years of cleansing taint from the lands, along with having the various aptitudes ideal to the role, he rose to become the leader of this glorious scripture. He was no longer a paragon among humans. He was a paragon of humanity, seeking evermore to carry humankind further beyond the wretched grasps of the orcs, the elves, the dwarves, the dragons, and any other disgusting subhuman entities that wish to see civilization crumble.

Even now he carried part of his nation upon his back. Even now as the fool Gazef was running headfirst towards his death.

The Warrior-Captain of the Kingdom came with his expected retinue as well as… Knights?

These were certainly not the ones that he sent forward to lure Gazef out. These looked far more heavily armed than the men he sent to Carne. These ones seemed to brim with holy energy as well.

Clerics?

Paladins?

The mysterious holy men were mounted upon horses that looked to be covered with glowing, blessed armor. If even their horses were outfitted with armor of this level, then the paladins themselves must be formidable indeed.

"Cast your disruption spells!" Nigun commanded.

His men responded in kind by raising their arms to face the oncoming horse.

" **[Holy Ray]!** "

" **[Charge of Stalagmite]!** "

" **[Shockwave]!** "

" **[Open Wound]!** "

" **[Poison Shot]!** "

" **[Lesser Holy Lance]!** "

" **[Magic Arrows]!** "

Some of the spells met their mark whilst others bounced harmlessly off of their target. It was a clear dichotomy of who felt which effect.

Gazef's warriors felt of full blow of the magic as several were launched off their horses or simply slumped over the side. The spells that had hit the horses sent their riders flying as their mounts crumpled beneath them.

The rogue paladins however… The magical projectiles seemed to dissipate when they got near the holy warriors. It was as if an invisible shield obliterated the magic so the only thing that reached their armor were the remnants of a soft wind.

Nigun's brow furrowed at this development.

"Prepare another wave of spells!" Nigun ordered

And so his men obeyed.

" **[Fire Rain]!** "

" **[Emerald Splash]!** "

" **[Lesser Purge]!** "

" **[Blindness]!** "

" **[Lesser Explosion]!** "

" **[Charm Person]!** "

" **[Confusion]!** "

Another volley met the infidels, with expected results.

Once again the warriors fell. Once again, most of the paladins powered onwards.

However, there was a very noticeable change now. Gazef was unhorsed.

Nigun smirked. "Send out your angels to intercept them!"

His men followed his commands once more with swiftness and accuracy.

Nigun shifted his gaze to above him to see his Principality of Observation. His own angel was an incredibly mighty one summoned with his own Fourth-Tier magic. It's power was further bolstered by his innate talent, which he considered to be his most treasured birthright.

The angels entered the fray, cutting apart the warriors with their flaming swords. As the wind blew towards Nigun, he caught the fragrance of spilt blood and seared flesh. A beautiful amalgam of otherwise disgusting aromas that signified the coming of victory.

While Gazef's ilk were struggling to hold their own, the mysterious paladins were managing to destroy some of the archangels. However, their progress had also ground to a halt.

Gazef of the other hand, was still making his way towards Nigun, cutting through the angels and exhausting himself with copious usage of his Martial Art skills.

Within a short time, Warrior-Captain began panting like a tired mongrel. With every use of Martial Arts, Gazef's jaw lowered further, desperately trying to force air in and out of his lungs to keep up with his body's demands.

With each angel he cut down, another would take its place. With each skill he used, his body heaved and slowed. With every step, he accrued more and more wounds, steadily applied by the endless tide of angelic warriors.

' _All as expected._ ' Nigun thought. Yet, he felt something gnawing at the back of his mind. A tiny little shard of unease.

The source of this was the massive man leading the paladins. The being that seemed to be casually swatting down any angel that nears him. While he seemed to be occupied with the flight of angels surrounding him, Nigun couldn't throw off the paranoia that the towering paladin was staring directly at him.

Nigun mentally reassured himself, shaking off the irrational stomach-churning feeling. After all, he had with him the might of the Sunlight Scripture's finest — the men most devoted to the betterment of society through righteous extermination.

Indeed, the Warrior-Captain will fall like the wretched heathen he was. And if the Warrior-Captain fell, how much more could the lone band of paladins do? Now was not the time to worry. It was time to seize victory.

"Clerics who have lost your angels, summon new ones. Focus your spells on Stronoff!"

' _Yes. Yes! YES!'_ He repeated to himself. Gazef's pace slowed and his entire body was slowly being covered by his own blood. It was such a satisfying sight. To see such a large thorn in the side of progress fall before his might was only second in pleasure to the razing of demihuman warrens.

However-

Eyes.

He saw the glow of crystal blue eyes staring right at him. Ones as clear and glossy as polished lapis lazuli. Even though the paladin's leader had his helm facing somewhat to the right of Nigun, he saw that those eyes were focused solely upon him.

Perhaps it was just his imagination.

No. He was sure of what he saw. It was brief but, for an instant, the sword of an angel neared the towering paladin's helmet and before the angel was smashed apart with a single strike of his greathammer, the holy light reflected upon those piercing blue irises.

The cloying sensation came back with a vengeance. A bead of cold sweat formed on his brow. As if on reflex, he reached into his robe with his left hand and felt the smooth, cool surface of his trump card. The touch both calmed him and reminded him of his utter superiority in this situation.

As Nigun opened his mouth to shout another set of orders-

The warriors fell.

Gazef fell.

Among those still standing were the group of paladins and Nigun along with the rest of the Sunlight Scripture. No one was moving.

"Now." The leader of the paladins spoke with a deep, commanding voice. "You may commence operations."

The paladins gave a quick salute to their commander and started moving once more.

Nigun's body tensed up. He still held the crystal under his robe. But the paladins did not head towards them. No, they went towards Gazef and his fallen men.

The first to reach an unconscious warrior pulled out a dagger that glowed with searing brightness and slashed the man deeply across the chest. He then lifted the now deceased warrior and proceeded to walk back towards the village.

The next paladin simply picked two unconscious men up and followed the first, this one not brandishing anything to maim the warriors he carried.

It was a mixed bag of actions. Some were cut with heated blades, others were left alone. The sight of Gazef's allies turning upon him should have been enjoyable, but the sheer bizarreness of the situation prevented him from feeling any pleasure.

Could they be part of another scripture whose mission was hidden until just now? It was a possibility as, while Nigun was privy to many secrets as he was a leader of the Sunlight Scripture, there were certainly secrets and tidbits of information kept hidden even from him.

One of the paladins picked up Gazef, leaving him unharmed and started walking back towards Carne.

"You! Paladin leader." Nigun called out, exasperation coloring his voice. "Stronoff is my target. Unless you can show me proof that you hold priority in fulfilling your duties, then he remains mine to kill."

"Proof? Priority in duties? Do you presume us to be a part of whatever organization you're in?" The huge armored man chuckled as he spoke.

Nigun's eyes twitched. This was the first time since the incident with those Blue Rose brats that he had been slighted. "You dare mock me? We'll see how far your insolence takes you."

"Oh we will." The paladin retorted. "Ah well, at least you were kind enough to confirm my suspicions." The armored juggernaut mused knowingly. "Well, sorry to spoil your fun, but I need him alive. An observation-based case study is useless if the observed party is dead, wouldn't you say."

A sly grin cracked upon Nigun's face.

"Heh… Heh haha!" Nigun's laugh carried a smear of deep irritation. "And what gives you the right- No, the capability to steal away what is mine to take, you fool?!"

The paladin's helm twitched slightly.

"Perhaps you should use my name, Skarlett Sangreal, if you wish to die painlessly." An overwhelming tide of murderous aura surged from the towering man, one that caused the entirety of the Sunlight Scripture to collectively flinch.

Nigun could feel the hand holding his crystal tremble. But he wasn't worried. He knew what would come next. He knew that nothing could take away his impending triumph.

"Ignorance is truly deplorable, isn't it. Have the angels charge him! Slaughter the fool named Skarlett Sangreal!" Nigun smiled gleefully as he barked his orders. A second moronic meathead would just be the icing on the cake for this mission. "Perhaps if you wish to die painlessly, you should start begging for mercy soon." Nigun shot back the threat that fool sent him.

The troupe of paladins, now behind Sangeal, were still facing away, still sauntering steadily towards Carne.

' _Were they not concerned for their leader? Or perhaps they were overconfident in the simpleton's power?_ '

It mattered not, as the blades of dozens of angels would soon pierce the wretch's body and rid him of his mortal coil. No armor of any thickness was truly impenetrable to the purifying blades wielded by Archangel Flames.

The angels closed the distance with blinding speed and struck.

They struck.

And they struck.

And they struck.

Some at the helm, some at the shoulder. Some stabbed into the joints, where the armor should have been thinnest.

All to no effect.

The strikes simply bounced off his armor like sticks against a stone wall.

" **[Mass Purge].** " Sangreal casually uttered but two words. Two words that sent a massive wave of energy outwards, shattering all of the angels near him instantaneously.

Nigun's jaw went slack. Worried sounds came from his men.

Sangreal crossed his arms and tilted his head. "Mmmmh, reaallly now." He said with a deeply exasperated tone. "Calling me a fool twice? Even after I warned you?"

"F-fool! You cannot hope to stand against my-"

*SHHHHWIP* A loud whooshing noise came from where his Principality was.

As he turned his head to look above him, he saw that the angel he had summoned now wore a gaping hole through its chest.

"Principality of Observation?" The monstrous being finished Nigun's sentence, its heroic voice tinged with a sadistic undertone. It was a disorientating mix of qualities to hear. "And that's three times now. Can we go for a fourth?"

He had not even heard a spell being uttered, and yet Nigun's summoned angel fell before it could even move.

Several hoarse cries came from around Nigun.

Terror had begun to grip their hearts.

Nigun and his men realized that they were facing something unimaginable. The shard of unease that had skulked within his mind metastasized throughout his body, growing and consuming his hope like starving maggots would a juicy carcass.

No. There was still hope. There was still his bastion of light. A bastion that would protect them both physically and mentally.

And he was holding it right in his hands.

The crystal he clutched onto had cost an unimaginable amount of resources to create, the price paid had allowed it to be infused with incredibly potent divine power. It was both expensive and rare, but with its costs came true infallibility.

"Rejoice, you subhuman filth-"

"Not the same word, but I'll count it."

"-for you shall have the great honor of facing against the angel of the highest order!"

The monster in humanoid form perked up as Niguns words reached its ears.

' _Yes! It's terrified! It will suffer the fate it deserves!_ ' He believed.

Nigun quickly looked around himself to see his still-trembling men.

"I am going to summon an angel of the highest order, hurry up and buy me some time!"

A smoldering ember of hope went ablaze within the hearts of Nigun's men. Once they had realized what was going to happen, they swiftly positioned themselves between Nigun and Skar. They had seen for themselves how their foe tensed when their commander spoke of his intentions.

Nigun's body warmed as the fires of confidence started melting away his apprehension.

This was his moment of glory and his enemy's time to despair!

His grip on the crystal was purposefully tightened once more, causing small cracks to appear within its structure.

As Nigun was about to ritually break the crystal in his hand-

' _The crystal?_

 _Where was the crystal?_

 _It's gone._

 _It's gone!_

Why is it gone?!'

It disappeared from his hand as if it had never existed.

And in front of him-

"AAAAAAH!" Nigun released a fearful scream as he stumbled backward and fell on his back.

Standing right in front of him was not the paladin in shining armor. That… ' _thing'_ towered before him like a ravenous predator about to devour its prey.

Its armor's color, once golden and silvered, was now obsidian black with hints of crimson.

Its armor's shape, once smooth and rounded, was now sharp and brutal.

Its weapon, once a holy greathammer, was now a pitch-black greatsword and a massive tower shield.

Its eyes, once seen by Nigun as a flash of blue, was now a malevolent blood red through the slits of its greathelm.

The figure itself seemed to have grown taller by several feet.

Behind it was two large patches of gore splattered across the once-green grass, at the exact same spot where two men had once stood.

The monster had slaughtered them instantaneously. It must have been so quick that no one — not Nigun, not his men, nor the angels had the chance to react against.

Held in its shadowy gauntlet-

"N-no! My-"

"Yours?" Its voice was no longer layered with a facade of false heroism. It was deep, rumbling, guttural, terrifying. It both looked and sounded like a Demon God from the legends of the thirteen heroes. "I'm holding it now, so it must have been mine." The thing stared at the crystal in it's massive hand. "Mmmh, so it _was_ just a spell-sealing crystal. And from the looks of it… Incapable of even sealing a Super-Tier spell." The monstrosity chortled.

Nigun wanted to retort, but the oppressive aura around the Demon God constricted at his throat like an invisible serpent. And then-

It threw the crystal.

Not away.

Not at the ground.

But right into Nigun's hands. It was not a hard toss. It was a toss meant to deliver, not to harm.

"W-what's the meaning of this? You have just signed your death, foolish demon!" Nigun finally managed to utter.

The monstrosity remained still and silent.

Not wasting a single moment, he ritually broke the crystal in his hand, causing a brilliant radiance to spill forth from where the crystal shattered.

The sun had already set beyond the horizon, but the grass was once again awash with dazzling luminosity. A faint, yet pleasantly sweet fragrance diffused throughout the air.

The legendary angel has descended upon the earth.

"Behold! The glorious visage of the highest angel! Dominion Authority!"

It was a mass of many shining wings, and among them were a pair of arms that held a golden scepter, symbolizing royal authority. A font of brilliant light obscured its head from the eyes of its mortal allies. Anyone could tell that this was a sacred being, for at the moment that it appeared, the air itself felt utterly purified of taint.

With the advent of divinity incarnate, wild cheers shot forth from Nigun's men. Their blood was no longer frozen with fear, but boiled in excitement.

Now it was its turn to be afraid.

Now it was its turn to die.

"Really now…" The monstrosity stated nonchalantly. "Not a Seraph, not a Cherubin, not even a Throne. It's not even in the first sphere!" The creature laughed madly. "Oh this is truly hilarious. And here I thought I would be facing a Seraph Aesphere, or even a Seraph Empyrean. Ahahaha!" Its demonic cackle seeped into Nigun's ears.

"Why are you acting like this? You're mad!" Nigun yelled. "Surely you've gone insane!" He smiled. "You face against a power that is capable of obliterating even the Demon Gods, and here you stand, laughing like a fool!"

The Demon God by the name of Skarlett Sangeal ceased its laughter.

"That's six times now." It stated in a deadpan manner.

"Six times, ten times, one hundred times, it matters not how many times I insult you if you will become nothing but ash! Dominion Authority, use it! Use **[Holy Smite]** on that wretch!"

In response to its summoner's wish to use its most powerful attack, the Dominion Authority shattered its scepter. The small, glowing fragments rose up into the air and slowly orbited its body.

This was magic that belonged in the realm of divinity, a realm whose threshold no paragon of humanity could hope to surpass. Even the large-scale rituals in the Slane Theocracy was incapable of casting it. But this most exalted of angels, Dominion Authority, could do it by itself. That was why it was ranked among the highest order of all angels.

The magic that Nigun ordered to be cast, the Seventh-Tier **[Holy Smite]** was truly a spell to be reckoned with.

The Dominion authority raised its arms towards the sky, signaling the completion of casting the divine spell.

In an instant, a pillar of white light broke through the sky and struck directly at the demon. It was a seemingly endless stream of intense holy radiance, flooding down from the heavens and submerging its target, who simply stood its ground.

Casting this spell of the Seventh-Tier — an attack that would annihilate all beings, evil and good, and turn them into nothing but smoldering ashes —was a feat humanity alone could not hope to accomplish. The sacred power that would annihilate all beings, evil and good, and turn them into nothing but smoldering ashes. This was the unimaginable power that exceeded the grasp of humanity, exceeded the grasp of mere mortals. It was the magic of the gods.

The demon was staggering.

"How utterly... inconceivably..." There were sounds of struggle weaved into the monster's words. "Disappointing." The tone of strain disappeared without a trace. "Truly, truly disappointing."

Still engulfed within the pillar of light, the creature let its shield drop to the ground and lifted its arm, pointing at the proof of gods in front of it.

" **[Seed of Corruption]** " With that utterance, a tiny black speck launched from its index finger into the legendary angel. " **[Corruption of Flesh: Somatic Infestation]**."

In an instant, a mass of red, fleshy tendrils burst from where the tiny fleck struck the angel, wrapping itself around the divine entity.

They crawled. The tendrils reached its hands, covering them in a thick mucus.

They twisted. The tendrils wrapped around its waist and hung downwards, dripping a foul-smelling fluid from where each of them ended.

They slithered. The tendrils covered its head, obscuring the brilliant light it emitted with a mass of red, muscular flesh. The light was not gone. It was altered. Once white and pure, the light had become a sickening pink-red.

So revolting was its metamorphosis that several of his men had keeled over, producing sounds that Nigun could only determine as violent retching. As if to affirm his prediction, the acrid stench of stomach acid assaulted Nigun's senses.

Struggling to beat back the urge to replicate his men's actions, Nigun redirected his attention to the greatest angel.

The Dominion Authority, which stood as still as a marble statue, had stopped channeling its spell.

"Wh-what's going on?! What did you do?!" Nigun frantically darted his eyes between mutated angel and the monster that had changed it. "Dominion Authority, use it! Use it again! Destroy it with your **[Holy Smite]**!"

But it did not.

"Now now, it won't follow your orders anymore." It spoke with a patronizing tone. "Simply stated, I made it mine. Though I just can't imagine how underdeveloped your nation must be if you thought that _this_ was the greatest angel." Its mocking voice reverberated between Nigun's ears. "Perhaps it was simply your own ignorance, _fool_. After all, you seemed to be surprised by a common combination of merely two spells. You truly are a _fool_ , aren't you."

"L-liar! You can't possibly control it! It's the proof of divinity. It's the most powerful-"

"Ah, perhaps I was wrong. You aren't a fool, you're simply someone whose unfortunate enough to have their mental growth stunted from a young age. A hard bump to the head at childbirth perhaps? You have my condolences." The words were once again inflected with smug glee. "But perhaps me practically spoon-feeding you the fact that this isn't close to being the most powerful angel isn't enough. Perhaps you're one of those experimental types, who dare not accept a statement as truth unless you see it for yourself. Don't worry, you'll have your proof."

The monstrosity raised its left arm.

"What? What are you doing?"

"Making you a believer." It seemingly grinned underneath its masklike greathelm. " **[Summon High-Tier Angel: Seraph Celestine]**."

Where the Demon God pointed, a pentagon made from five points of radiant light had appeared 10 meters its finger. From the two lights to at the sides, formed lithe arms and hands of alabaster. From the two below, formed slender legs that were soon encased in armor as reflective as polished platinum.

The radiance at the top suddenly grew brighter and brighter, stretching into a ring as it became ever more scintillating to mortal eyes. Under this brilliant halo, its head formed — her head formed. Her face, like the rest of her body, was as white as marble. However, they could only take in her beauty for a mere moment, as the halo had lowered itself and shrank until it fit snugly around her head, covering her closed eyes.

It was only then that a sixth light appeared at the center of the pentagon. With it, formed a bare torso covered only by streams of reflective liquid metal that flowed around her.

They all saw it happen. Nigun himself had witnessed its supernal birth with his own eyes. And yet, none of could comprehend what occurred so conspicuously in front of them.

None of them dared to believe that this evil which had spawned from the deepest pits of despair could call upon any sacred entities, let alone one as divinely overwhelming as this one.

"Now then," The Demon God stated casually. "I'd like to prove my point quickly before moving on. Seraph Celestine, destroy that Dominion Authority."

Heeding its demonic master's bidding, the Seraph held its arms close to the light at its chest and formed a triangle with her fingers. The rings of liquid metal around its body conglomerated in the shape made by the angel's fingers and-

*FSHEEN*

A massive beam of light erupted from its hands, engulfing the entirety of the defiled Dominion Authority in fiery brilliance. The shockwave of the attack sent Nigun tumbling many meters backward.

Even with his face pressed firmly into the ground, Nigun instinctively shut his eyes as the all-consuming light reflected off of even the grass and dirt.

As the sound ceased and the light dimmed, Nigun slowly opened his eyes. When he mustered the will to raise his eyes, he immediately reeled back in horror as the Dominion Authority that once stood above him had become nothing. Not even the tiniest glimmer of a shard remained.

It was destroyed, utterly and absolutely.

What remained of Nigun's sanity had also been obliterated in that single fell swoop.

"How did…. HOW?! No... no no NO THIS ISN'T-"

"Possible? But it simply is, you _fool_. And I don't quite believe that you have the right to complain about things you didn't expect to happen. After all, you went into this fight so confidently when you had no information on half of your enemies and instead of, sanity forbid, lying in wait and observing, you chose to take a half-blind fight."

"B-Bu-"

"Well actually, even if you had stayed in the treeline, you would have been killed regardless. My Absolute Control Zone practically covers the entire forest around here," The Demon God turned its finger around in a circle. "Meaning your lives had already been forfeit the moment you stepped foot into it."

"I-I."

"Yes, and what a beautiful thing it is. To be able to deploy as many of my troops, each capable of wiping out your pathetic excuse of a death squad, as I want whenever I want is truly glorious." It raised its arms to its sides and turned its head towards the sky brightened by the Seraph. "And still, you get stupefied by the most obvious of outcomes! What kind of imbecile just walks into enemy territory without keeping in mind of such basic, **basic** elements of strategy?!" The raving Demon God bellowed.

"Bu-"

"Now you might be asking yourself 'Why is my enemy sharing such important information when my allies could very well be listening in on it? Even if I don't make it out alive, my comrades will now know everything!' Well I'll tell you why."

Nigun could only stutter incoherently as the thing continued its tirade.

"Surrounding us," The demon motioned around itself, "Are hundreds of troops quicker and overwhelmingly more powerful than anything your feeble mind could even possibly imagine. Surrounding them, are interceptors that could catch any one of you in the blink of an eye. No camouflaged spy of yours listening to this conversation has the slightest chance at escaping!" Its voice reverberated within Nigun's eardrums. "Even the damned sky above you is covered with so many layers of anti-information spells that any halfwit imbecile stupid enough to target scrying magic here will have themselves and everything around them razed to the ground! Isn't is just so funny how being even remotely intelligent works?!" It placed a massive hand upon its masked helm and cackled and cackled and cackled.

As if to prove its point, a small section of the sky cracked, producing a sound akin to stepping on glass. These cracks were fleeting, vanishing in an instant and returning the sky to as it once were.

"And what's this now?! Such a sweet crackling sound of a deflected scrying spell just reached my ears. It's almost like being prepared has its advantages." It mockingly remarked. "For their sake, let's hope they weren't trying to peek in on us with too many people nearby, or else that **[Clandestine Cataclysm]** would have done much more than just a little collateral damage."

Nigun was wordless. All he could muster was an unblinking stare and subtle tremors.

"Really now… I know that you're slow, but this is getting ridiculous. Let me spell it out for you." It cleared its throat. "Someone, probably from your own country, was spying on us. They just died. Everything around them also just died. I was rewarded for not being a fucking idiot."

The thing started cackling once again.

Waves upon waves of confusion drowned Nigun's mind.

Nothing made sense to him.

Absolutely nothing.

Those paladins.

The being that surpassed the power of the demon gods.

The corruption of the greatest angel.

The existence of an even greater one.

He was broken. He wanted nothing more than to curl up on the soft grass and cry until everything became as it once were, perhaps waking himself up from whatever nightmare that he was trapped in.

His men were already two steps ahead. Some slumped to the ground, weeping audibly as the stench of ammonia started to spread from them. The ones more intent on saving themselves fell into a prostrating position, muttering pathetic pleads with broken, hyperventilating voices.

Its laughter stopped abruptly.

"Oh… I did it again didn't I?" It sighed deeply. "Well, he's certainly going to get a laugh out of this one…"

It took a quick glance at its surroundings.

"Wellll, it looks like I've done enough damage here. Time for cleanup."

It raised its right arm and snapped its fingers, creating a resonating boom that shook the leaves of the closest trees.

"Ah." A gentle voice came behind Nigun. "Looks like it is our turn to impress, yes?"

"Of course." A stuffy, thicker voice responded from the same direction.

Nigun turned his head to see an overweight woman in priest-like garbs and a man dressed in a robe that would put the Cardinals' to shame.

"I suppose you know how to handle this?"

"But of course, my Divine Lord."

"And what of Gazef and his men?"

"Gazef and the rest have awoken. Gazef was left unharmed. 14 of his men were mortally wounded and 21 were inflicted with moderate injuries."

"How many were from us?"

"8 of the former, 10 of the latter. They were done to quell suspicions as you have requested."

"Good, then I will head back to Carne and check up on them before sending them on their way."

"How magnanimous of you, my Divine Lord. We shall fulfill our duties faithfully."

"Splendid, then I will be leaving." The godlike being strolled away from them, as if he were leaving an event of trivial importance. Though, it was more likely that he had simply let competent subordinates to take over. The most terrifying outcome of course, was if both statements were true.

' _Suspicions?_ ' Nigun racked his brain at its words, slowly piecing things together. ' _That spell that made all of them collapse, and their paladins wounding the warriors. The first was to extract them from a situation without their knowledge and consent. The latter was to disperse suspicions and apply the blame to us. As it would be odd for all of them to collapse and suffer no injuries, especially if they were to believe their enemy was the one casting the spell. That devious monst-_ '

"Ah ah ah." The obese woman tutted at him. "One does not call our Divine Lord a monster, not even in one's thoughts."

"Wh- you were reading my-?"

The woman turned back to the man, who wore an unsettling smile that was seemingly locked in place.

"Mmmmmh. What shall we do with them, Pontiff Sylvan-sama?"

Nigun wanted to rebuke how casually stated those words were, but he held his lips tight. It was not just the terror of what happened earlier. Whenever that woman spoke, it felt as if a fistful of maggots were rammed down his throat and were squirming about, chewing at his insides.

He wanted to vomit

"They are men of faith. Zealous ones, to be exact. While they may not be pure in their beliefs, they are still workable for you and your sisters, yes?"

The disgustingly obese woman licked her lips. "Exquisitely so, Pontiff Sylvan-sama."

Cold lightning shot down Nigun's spine. That woman terrified him, and he had no idea why.

"You." His fear pointed a thick finger at him. "You shall be my personal magnum opus. Do not disappoint me when your time comes."

All Nigun could do was gulp at her words.

…

Lapis hummed a random tune as he let the steaming water soak his skin. The tub was still a few sizes too small, though the experience was pleasant regardless.

Dinner was delightful as per usual. A plate of juicy grilled sausages, hearty baked potatoes, and thick slices of toasted bread could only be truly appreciated by a patrician like himself. The two dwarves, on the other hand, only picked at their food tonight.

They were jumpy. During dinner, each of their heads snapped towards even the slightest of sudden sounds. It was obvious to Lapis that, much to his annoyance, they had not gotten over that stupid sword. Skar is going to get a real kick outta that one.

Lapis pushed himself deeper into the tub, lowering himself until his mouth was below the soothing water.

As if on cue, Lapis heard that familiar ringing sound in his head again. He picked up the call.

"Hey Lapis." A man's voice echoed in his head.

"Hey."

"Anything new to report?"

"Yeah…. Something happened over here." Lapis wiggled his right hand in the bathwater. "You know how everything in this world is super weak and all of their gear is shit?"

"Yes…"

"Well I accidentally loaned my landlord a vendor-trash weapon and they deemed it to be some legendary artifact of sorts."

"..."

"Yeah…"

"Did you resolve the situation at least?"

"Yeah, I fed them a shit story, they ate it up and promised to tell no one, but I'm going to continue tracking their behavior to see if they're going to be problematic not."

"Ah, good to know."

"What, no laughs? No 'Aha you fucked it up'?"

"No. You made a mistake and handled it."

"..."

"..."

"You did something really stupid didn't you?"

"No… but could we have our monthly review session on weaknesses and dependencies tomorrow?"

Odd. We already did that a few days after we arrived, and he wants another again already? It's meant to be a monthly behavior eliminating program that focused on problematic tenden-

"You did that thing again, didn't you?" Lapis casually accused.

"Wha- what? No! No no! Of course not!"

"..."

"... Yes."

"PFFTHAHAHA." Lapis cackled like a madman. A single tear of joy came down from his right eye and merged with the bathwater.

"Hey! Shut it! You fucked up too alright. I was being nice by not laughing in your face but if you think that-"

"Alright alright, I get it. I just didn't think that you would pull something like that so soon. Especially since neither of us understands the full scope of this world."

"Well, let's say that I got pissed off and wanted to prove a point."

"Ah, so you were eased into that bout of power madness, eh? Fair enough. Now, I'll just go over a quick session tonight then, alright?"

"I'm fine with that."

"Good! First of all, as we both you, you can't take insults and can fall into brief bouts of megalomania, yes?"

"Mhmm."

"Now, here's another thing you need to be aware of. You're possessive. Very VERY possessive."

"Well that's a new one. Why'd you think I have that problem?"

"An astute question, my dear bossman. Firstly, based on how you operated Tier Raid as the Guild Leader, you have always tended towards aggressively defensive resource allocation, which is indicative of having a protective mindset."

"And that's bad why? I'm protecting what's mine while still slowly expanding outwards. I know that I favor the stabilization of internal structure over expansion, but that just means I prefer low-risk options."

"Well yes, but notice how you said 'mine' rather than 'ours'. You're attributing shared resources as your own. This isn't a problem by itself, but you also get abnormally aggressive when something you identify as 'yours' is taken from you without permission. For example, remember that time where you took a 100-man raid party to that Midgard guild just because one of them stole a single-"

"Okay okay I see your point-"

"I'm not done yet. This happens with you and people as well. You are overprotective of low-quality manpower even if you see a single scrap of value within them. You're even worse when dealing with mid-value members who you could actually sacrifice for a better overall outcome."

"So I'm overprotective of my employees. I don't see how that's a problem."

"Well, let's take Lilylala, our resident burst healer for example."

"..."

"Because you two were dating over Yggdrasil-"

"Woah woah! How do you know this?"

"The better question is, how could you not expect that everyone in our guild wouldn't know this? Both of you were terrible at hiding it. The fact that you, someone who knows my background and training, thought that such basic diversion tactics would work on me is frankly insulting."

A deep sigh resonated inside his head. "Fine fine, just go on."

"Y'know what, I won't use this as an example because I respect you."

"Didn't stop you from bringing up the other things."

"Well, obviously your love life is more personal. Anyhow, if you want to fix any of these problems, start by-"

An odd sound reached Lapis's ears.

Ringing. It was the ringing of a massive bell. One that is usually found at churches and city centers. This wasn't good.

"Tell you what, we'll pick this up tomorrow, alright?"

"What's going on over there?"

"I don't know, but it doesn't sound good."

"Stay safe, alright."

"Yeah, don't worry man, I can take care of myself. I'll call you back, alright?"

"...Alright." And with that, the [Message] spell ended.

As quickly as he could, Lapis dried and dressed himself before entering the main room. When he opened the bathing room's door the bells' tolls became far louder and clearer. Garik and his son were scrambling to close and bar the windows.

They had fear in their eyes.

"Oi, you two. What's going on?"

Not even bothering to stop, the older dwarf replied. "M-mister Lazuras, oh by the gods this is bad bad ba-"

"What is bad?!"

"Oh, it's been so long since I've heard those bells. Not since I was a wee lad."

"Get to the damn point!"

"The city… We're under attack."

...

Author's Note:

So uh, hi. It's been a while. I finally managed to push out this chapter. Sorry for being years late. Sorry for the likely lower quality work. Thank you to everyone who has been waiting. I can only hope that this chapter scratches that Overlord itch for some of you.

I would also like to note that I will post my answers to questions in the reviews as a review itself and also post what I wrote in the author's note for the next chapter.

I would also like to clarify a design difference between my piece and Maruyama's recent LNs. While Maruyama decided to portray Orcs as pig men, I went with a more Warhammer kind of portrayal. Unfortunately, I cannot alter this difference in both physical appearance and demeanor as I have already planned out events and interactions that require the specific personality I gave them. I give my apologies in advance.


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